Monsters Led to This
by xXDragonAgeQueenXx
Summary: Nic isn't like other people.A horrible accident as a child left her with powers. Now the demons want her, but she refuses to let them have her. A chance encounter with John Winchester leaves her at Bobby's to meet Dean. They instantly hit it off. Will it be love or just sex between the two? A friend has taken over so I will update, but after Part 4 it's all her work.
1. Damn Demons

I woke up feeling groggy similar to the feeling one has after being put under by anesthesia. My head throbbed from whatever was used to knock me out. My head had been resting on my chest because I was sitting in a chair. I tried to move and then realized I wasn't just sitting in a chair, I was tied to it as well. My arms were behind my back tied with rope and my legs were spread apart and tied to the legs of the chair. Why I was only tied with rope I didn't know. I could easily break them and be free. That must have been why I was drugged.

When I was younger I had gotten into a bad accident while riding my bike. I couldn't have been more than six at the time. A car had been speeding down the road and never even noticed me. By the time they finally saw me on my blue "big-girl" bike, as my dad called it, it was too late. They plowed right into me and I had to be rushed to the hospital. The doctors had done everything they could to save me this included some experimental drugs. It had saved my life, but forever changed me. At first we hadn't really noticed, but around my eighth birthday a man broke into our house to rob us.

I don't think he meant to come after me or harm me in any way, but when he spotted me something snapped in his brain. He came at me and grabbed me causing me to scream. My dad came into the living room and knocked the guy off of me. However the guy was drunk, on drugs, or just crazy I'm not sure and came right back after my dad. Dad wasn't the strongest guy in the world and wasn't able to stop the man from beating on him. At first I was scared, but then I got mad that this man was hurting my family. I grabbed his arm and slung him across the room like it was nothing. The guy was knocked out and my dad called the police.

That was the day I discovered I had super strength. While it was kind of scary at first I soon began to think it was cool. I've been a comic book fan all my life and when I got the strength it made me think of Luke Cage. I wasn't bulletproof of course, but I was just as strong. I could also move slightly faster than the average person. I even tried to go as fast as The Flash once, it hadn't worked though.

My question now however was why had I been taken and by who? I tried to remember what had been going on before I got here, but it was kind of foggy from the drugs. I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts and after a few minutes it came to me. I had been helping my dad work on a car. He owned his own mechanic shop and from time to time I helped him out; that is when I wasn't at the local gym working as a fitness trainer. Dad was having trouble getting an engine out of a car because the motor hoist stopped working. I had grabbed it and waited on him to unhook it so I could sit it on the ground out of the way. I then made a joke about how he only wanted me around for my strength.

Before he could joke back a knife had came through his chest. I screamed bloody murder and then ran at the person who attacked. I was winning the fight against the semi tall man before another showed up and flung me against a wall with an unseen force. I wasn't sure how he done it, but I kept fighting. I may have been outnumbered three-to-one when I stood up, but I wasn't going to quit. One of the men grabbed me from behind putting a rag to my face. I tried to fight, but the drugs were already affecting me. I looked at my dad's body lying on the ground and one of the other men seeing his eyes turn black, but that wasn't possible it must have been the drugs, and then I passed out.

So question was where was I now? I let out a groan as I sat up the best I could. I looked around trying to figure out an exit. The room I was in wasn't that big and was made of concrete. There was only one light which hung above me and barely lit up the room. I saw a metal door to my left and an open doorway to my right. I was thinking about which way would be the best to go when the men who had taken me walked in. I snarled at them in an almost animalistic way. "I see you're awake," one of them said. Now that I was tied up I took the moment to really look at the men. The one who had stabbed my father was around five foot nine. He had blond hair that hung to his chin, bright green eyes, straight jaw line and a build that suggested he worked out. The second man was black with green eyes, a strong jaw, and black hair with a crew cut and also looked fairly athletic. The guy who had grabbed me was tall around the six foot six range making my five foot five frame seem smaller than it was. He also had blonde hair, but it was longer than the other man's coming to about mid-back and man was he ripped.

"Yeah no thanks to you guys. Want to tell me what the hell I'm doing here and why you dickwads killed my dad?" I asked. I planned on getting answers before killing these jerks. "Hmm that mouth Nicole…it's going to get you in trouble." Little blondie said. "Oh yeah and how's that?" I replied. Big blondie decided to grab my hair pulling my head back. His eyes flashed black freaking me out, but I wasn't about to show it. "Look big guy if you want to make out at least take me to dinner first." I told him while smirking. "Listen here the only reason you are alive is because the boss wants you on his side. Of course I wanted to posses you, but for some reason that won't work so we are going to offer you a deal." He told me.

Okay hold the phone posses? Does that mean these dickbags are demons like out of the movie Constantine or The Exorcist? They didn't seem to be acting like those people did, but the only thing I've ever heard of possessing someone is a demon. Okay now that I have that figured out, who in the hell is these guy's boss? Scratch that I really don't want to know, but now I'm not sure if I can kill these guys. "Deal what kind of deal? Like sell my soul to Lucifer or something because let me tell ya that ain't gonna happen." I tell them go trying to seem calmer than I am. This was not something I would have ever thought possible and I was pretty scared. "Something like that. Only it doesn't go to Lucifer it will go to my boss and since he wants you on our side you may even get more than ten years." The military looking demon tells me.

"Wow ten years before my soul goes to some demon for him to do whatever he wants with it. Well I got to ask what I get in return." I reply. Big blondie smiles and tells me, "You get your dad back." So that was why they killed him to force me to make a deal because they couldn't posses me. It was wasted because as much as I loved my father I knew it would kill him all over to watch me be some demon's bitch before my soul got dragged to hell. "I'm gonna have to think on that one." I told them before I broke loose and started fighting them.

They weren't expecting me to break my bonds so I'm assuming their boss hadn't told them of my strength. I kicked the chair back causing it to hit big blondie before I jumped superman punching little blondie. When I turned to kick military man another guy was standing there and had thrown what looked like water at military guy. His skin burned and he screamed. I took on the blondies while the new guy took on military guy. I then heard him start to say something that I couldn't understand. " _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te...cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare…_ " he started causing the demons to stop fighting back and start writhing in pain. " _Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis...Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine...quem inferi tremunt...Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos._ " he finished causing black smoke to come out of the men and go toward the ground causing sparks almost as if it was burning.

The bodies of the three men dropped dead. It saddened me that they were gone because some evil thing had decided to use them, but there was nothing I could do about it. I turned to the man who had helped me get away. He had dark brown hair that was a little shaggy and unkempt, but wouldn't be considered long since it was all on top his head. He had dark brown five o'clock shadow with some grey in it suggesting he had some age; so did the frown lines around his mouth. The way he stood suggested former military. He had on a brown shirt with a green jacket with blue jeans and boots. He stood around six foot two. "Hey thanks for the help. I'm Nicole Jenkens what's your name?" I introduced myself. "Name's John Winchester. I was hunting these demons to get some information from them, but when I showed up here you were." He replied.

"What kind of information if you don't mind me asking?" I asked. As long as I was talking to him I could forget that these monsters killed my father and the rage I felt because of it. "My wife was killed years ago and I'm pretty sure it was by a demon. What I want to know is what they were doing with you." He answered. Well shit guess I got to tell him now. "They…they killed my dad and kidnapped me. Something about their boss wanting me, but they couldn't posses me for some reason. I guess it may have something to do with the accident I had as a kid, but I don't know" I tell him. We walked outside and climbed in his truck.

I wasn't sure where we were going, but anywhere was better than here. "So tell me about this accident of yours." He said. And I told him about what happened and the strength I got from it. He glanced over at me with a thoughtful look on his face. "Look I don't like this, but the demons clearly want you for something so I'm gonna take you to an old buddy's house he can help protect you." I looked at him kind of upset that he thought I needed protecting; I had my super strength after all. Then I thought about it, super strength wouldn't stop demons so I nodded my head in agreement. We drove for sometime telling each other about ourselves. He told me of his sons and how is oldest was close to my age.

"So I gotta ask. Are there other things out there? I mean other than demons." I asked. John looked at me and replied, "Yes Nicole there are and I'm sure my hunting buddy will teach you all about them." He replied. Some time later we pulled into a junkyard and he parked. He knocked on the front door and explained to the man who answered it why we were there. "Well come on then ya idjit don't just stand by the truck all day." The man in the ball cap yelled at me. I gave him a funny look, but walked up on the porch and inside anyway. "So John tells me demons want ya for some reason and wants me to protect you. Way I see it I teach what ya need to know so you can protect yourself cause I'm not a damn babysitter." I chuckle and nod. "Well I don't like the idea of needing a babysitter so we are definitely on the same page." I reply. "Name's Bobby by the way." Bobby says walking away from me and into a library. I saw all the books and my eyes widened. Guess I got a lot of reading to do.


	2. Hello boys

It had been two years since John dropped me off at Bobby's and I got to say it isn't that bad. Bobby has let me have free reign in his library, which for me was amazing. Yes I'm a fitness instructor and yes I work on cars, drink beer, and enjoy sports; that doesn't mean I don't like reading. It's actually my favorite past time. I find it very relaxing and it also helps keep the mind sharp. While I was amazed to find so many monsters existed I wasn't completely surprised. It honestly made sense that so many things were out there considering all the death and destruction going on in the world.

I was sitting in the library reading up on demons when Bobby came in from the junk yard. "Hey Nic why don't you put the book down and go cook dinner for us. It would give ya something else to do and you're a hell of a lot better cook than I am." Bobby said. I let out a chuckle knowing Bobby wasn't telling me to do it; he just really enjoyed my food. I went to the chicken and got the stuff ready to make potato soup, fresh bread, and apple pie. It wasn't a hard thing to make just time consuming, but who can resist taters with bacon made into a soup with hot bread and butter? I know I certainly wouldn't turn it down.

I added the bacon to finish the soup and the bread had come out of the oven a few moments ago. I had put the pie in about 15 minutes after the bread so that it would still be warm when dinner was done. Music was blasting from my phone as I danced around the kitchen cooking. Trust me it's a good work out and gets the appetite up. Give me all your lovin' by ZZ Top started playing so I started singing as well as dancing. I was so distracted that I hadn't heard a knock on the front door nor had I heard Bobby answer it and whoever it was come in. "Give me all your lovin' all your hugs and kisses too." I belted out and when I turned around I saw Bobby with two young men I recognized, but didn't know.

"I'll give you all my lovin' and all my hugs and kisses." The shorter of the two said. He stood around six foot and had dark blonde hair with striking green eyes. He was wearing a t-shirt with a flannel and green jacket with jeans and boots. The other man was tall around six foot four also wearing flannel. He had hazel eyes and dark shaggy hair. After looking at them a few minutes it clicked these were John's boys. He had shown me a picture when we were on the way here. "Well darling you can do that, but dinner would get cold and I really don't want cold pie." I replied.

"Did you say pie? She said pie right Sam?" Dean asked. I laughed and nodded my head before I turned to take the pie out of the oven. "Sit down boys and I'll get you food and beer." I told them. Dean, Sam and Bobby sat at the table no problem. I brought over four bowls of soup and sat the bread with butter in the center of the table. It took a few trips to get it all and Sam offered to help, but I refused. They had been traveling for who knows how long and I thought they deserved a break. After everything was on the table I sat down to my own plate. Dean was already digging in like he hadn't had a meal in days.

"Oh my God this is amazing. I don't know who you are, but marry me." Dean said. I swallowed my food before looking at him confused. "Your dad didn't mention me to you?" I asked. Sam and Dean both stopped eating and looked up at me. "You know our dad?" Sam asked. I nodded my head. "Yeah I met him couple months ago. He uh busted in on me fighting the demons that killed my dad and kidnapped me. He exorcised them and then brought me here. Told me about you boys and the demon he's tracking." I replied. "He probably didn't tell them about you Nic cause he knew Dean here would be drooling all over you." Bobby told us. We all laughed except Dean.

"I'm not drooling I'm just admiring a beautiful woman that can cook." Dean said. I looked at him and smiled before whispering in his ear, "I can kick your ass too, but that wouldn't be nearly as fun as the other things we could do." Dean stared at me surprised. I got up and carried the dishes to the sink Dean watching my ass the whole time. Sam even slapped him for it. "So who wants pie?" I asked once our dishes were in the sink. "I do and can it be cherry?" Dean asked with a smirk. I knew the song he was referring to and couldn't help, but laugh. "Only if you ask real nice." I replied.

It was fun to have someone to joke and flirt with around. Don't get me wrong I liked talking to Bobby he's a great guy, but I was 26 and wanted to be around guys my own age. Dean smirked as I sat the pie and vanilla ice cream down on the table. "Okay so what are you boys doing here anyway?" Bobby asked. Dean had his mouth full so Sam replied, "Dad took off again after we got the colt and we are tracking a demon ,that may lead us to the one that killed our mom." It was smart of them to come to Bobby because he was an amazing hunter and could help them find the demon they were looking for. After we finished our pie we walked back to the library to find a way to track the demon and capture it so we could get some answers.

"So Nic I got to ask why did my dad bring you here." Dean asked. I looked at him and shrugged. "He said I'd be safe that more demons would come for me thanks to my super strength and inability to be possessed." I replied. Dean and Sam both looked at me confused. "Super strength?" Sam asked. I nodded my head and replied, "Yep don't know what the doctors gave me after I got hit by a car as a kid, but now I'm kinda like Luke Cage minus the bulletproofness." Dean and Sam both looked pretty amazed. "That must come in handy." Dean said. Before I could answer them Bobby came over to us with a book in his hands.

"Says here we can summon the demon directly into a devil's trap and it will be stuck." Bobby told us. Sounds interesting enough; summon demon see what it has to say. "I'm on board with this plan what about you guys?" I asked looking at the boys. They both nodded their heads. We gathered the ingredients for the summoning and headed to the basement. While Bobby prepared the summoning I drew a devil's trap on the floor. Once done we summoned the demon and it was trapped. It was in some girl named Meg; I felt so sorry for her, but she was most likely already dead.


	3. The Fun We Could Have

The demon Meg was a total bitch and didn't want to tell Sam, Dean and Bobby anything. Of course she was a demon so what could one expect. When they realized that she wasn't going to give them the information they wanted Bobby started to say the exorcism. With the demon gone the body she inhabited slumped over. It turns out I was correct in thinking the girl was already dead. "This is our fault we threw her from that building." Dean said. I frowned because even if they had thrown her from a building who's to say that the girl wasn't dead before that. I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. "Cheer up sweet-cheeks you have no way of knowing if what you did resulted in her death or if something else did so don't go playing the blame game. I promise it won't do ya any good it will only cause wrinkles on that pretty face of yours." I told him.

Dean looked at me and smiled grateful for what I was trying to do. Sam and Bobby just shook their head at me. "I swear Nic you are the female version of him. Always wanting to eat and flirtatious as all hell." Bobby said. I wasn't sure if he meant it as a compliment, but I was going to take it as one. "Thanks Bobby that's sweet of you." I replied. Dean and Sam snickered while Bobby threw his hands in the air. He then sent us upstairs so that he could deal with the body. I grabbed a beer for all of us and we sat down in the kitchen to talk. "So if our dad brought you here for your protection what do you plan on doing?" Sam asked. "Well far as I can see I got two options sit here scared the demons are gonna get me or relax, learn what I can, enjoy life and give the demons hell when the time comes." I start before taking a drink of my beer. "Obviously I'm going with option two cause cowering just ain't my thing." I finish

Sam and Dean look at me and smile. "Good answer after all taking the fight to them is what a hunter does best." Dean tells me. I look at him and smile; there was just something about him that made me feel at ease. It's possible that my relaxed feeling came from the fact we were so much alike in attitude or maybe it was because we connected on an emotional level about losing a parent. All I know was I was enjoying having him around. "So I gotta ask what was it like growing up with super strength." Dean asked. "To tell ya the truth at first it was weird as crap, but then it became the coolest thing because I was just like the super heroes in my comic books. I could lift stuff 10 times my own body weight and move faster than normal just not as fast as The Flash which was a bit of a downer, but still…I was able to help the people in my neighborhood and help my dad which was great because he worked so much to take care of us and I was finally able to go to work with him." I said smiling remembering the good times before I frowned.

"Hey no sad faces. If I'm not allowed to frown neither are you." Dean told me. I smiled at him glad I had some one to cheer me up. "Hey you want more pie cause I sure do?" I asked getting up. Dean jumped all over the idea of more pie while Sam said he didn't want any. He followed me to the kitchen to get the pie. "Where did you learn to cook and how did you know to make pie?" Dean asked. I chuckled because I didn't know to make the pie it was a happy coincidence. "Well I enjoy eating so I learned to cook and as far as the pie I didn't know to make the pie. I just wanted it and what do ya know you were lucky enough to show up when I made it." I told him. He smiled with a mouthful of pie and said, "Lucky me indeed the pie is amazing and it was made by a real hottie." I looked him up and down thinking the same thing about him.

I smirked at him and nodded my thanks. "You know it's nice to be around someone my own age again. Plus it helps that you are one fine specimen of a man." I told him. Sam was hot as well, but Dean's personality matched mine more. We were goofy, outgoing, and flirty, loved old rock, and had an unhealthy love for food. I can honestly say I had never met someone who was so like me. I was going to enjoy having him around that was for sure. Dean smirked and walked over to me. "Well you're one good looking chick yourself." Dean told me. "Well Dean ya know what they say about fire and gasoline right? They burn hotter together." I told him. I came up with the analogy because I was always throwing fuel to the fire and Dean was as hot as a fire.

"Well how bout first chance we get we see just how hot we can burn." Dean told me leaning real close to me. My neck flushed and I felt heat pool in my lower belly. I was definitely okay with his plan. "First chance we get we'll see what kind of fun we can have without little brother and Bobby to stop us." I replied. Dean smirked gave me a light kiss and then went back to his pie. I couldn't help but to laugh. The boy certainly loved his food. I was curious to if he loved it or sex more. Now there's a thought, bring food to the bedroom. Sure real food would be weird, but we could go with cherries and whip cream that would be okay. Or at least I thought it would be.

Sam walked in and saw how flushed I was. "Umm Nic are you okay?" he asked. I looked at him a little funny and replied, "I'm fine Sam." Bobby came right in behind him. "Well ya don't look fine ya look like you're hot." My eyes widened knowing exactly what they were talking about. "Oh it's nothing Dean here just asked me to tell him a story from my childhood. Guess the memories got me a little flushed from anger thinking bout my dad." I told them hoping they would buy it. Sam seemed to, Bobby looked like he didn't, but was going to let it go for now. Dean just smirked and licked his lips to mess with me more. I threw a towel at him and smiled. Man the fun me and him were gonna have together.


	4. That Was Fun

Bobby and Sam ran into town to get supplies. Not exactly sure what they were getting them for as we didn't have a hunt or anything. However I wasn't going to question why they had left since it meant I was alone with Dean. I smirked because I knew they would be gone for sometime and that gave me time to do the things to Dean I had been thinking about. Dean was sitting on the couch enjoying his beer and pie when I went upstairs to change clothes. I had been wearing jeans and a flannel, but I changed into tight daisy dukes and a spaghetti strap that showed about an inch of my belly. I knew Dean was extremely flirty, but I hoped the outfit along with my awesome food would entice him to actually act on his words. I walked back downstairs and Dean was still sipping his beer the pie however was long gone. I walked over to the couch, my footsteps alerting Dean to my presence. He looked up at me and his eyes got as wide as a tea saucer.

I chuckled and asked, "Like what ya see?" Dean smirked walked over to me and put his hand on my hip. "Of course I like what I see. You knew I would that's why you changed." He replied while tracing small circles on my exposed side. "Well I had hoped." I told him. "Look we've been flirting with each other all evening. Now my brother and Bobby are gone so I say we do a little something more." Dean said leaning in real close to my face. I smirked glad that my plan had worked. I slammed my lips onto his not wanting to waste another minute. Dean grabbed my hips kissing me back. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he moved his hands down to cup my ass lifting me up. I wrapped my lags around him and ground my sex against his. Dean very carefully maneuvered us upstairs to my bedroom never breaking the kiss.

I had left my door open and Dean walked through it and laid me on the bed. We continued to make out pretty heavily for a few minutes before he sat up and took his flannel and t-shirt off. I rubbed my hands up his abs and chest loving the feel of his muscles rippling beneath my hand. When he began kissing me again I used my strength to flip us over. Dean seemed a little surprised, but didn't really mind. I began kissing him again and then broke free to trail kisses along his strong jaw down his neck before I nibbled on his ear. He groaned and I worked my way down loving on his nipples while I gently ran my nails up and down his sides. I got to the edge of his jeans and ran my tongue from one side to the other slowly teasing him. I unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his legs with his boxers. When I reached his feet I took off his boots and socks so that I could finish removing his pants and underwear.

I looked up at his cock with half-lidded eyes. I was so aroused and loved the look of his cock standing at attention for me. I slowly slid up him and was about to take his delicious looking cock in my mouth when he stopped me. "Is something wrong?" I asked. I was extremely surprised at being stopped. "Yes you are way over dressed." He replied. I chuckled, but took of my own clothes. "Satisfied?" I asked. He gave me a devious smirk and I loved it. "Not yet, but I will be." He told me. Dean was right about that. Now that, that was settled I lowered myself back down and took the head of his cock in my mouth. I gently flicked the underside with my tongue causing him to groan. I slowly took a little more in my mouth and swirled my tongue around him. Dean let out another groan and I smirked around his cock which wasn't easy.

I finally took him all the way in deep-throating his huge cock. I bobbed my head up and down sucking as hard as I could. Dean bucked his hips and quivered. I could tell he was getting close because of his breath and moans and the way his body kept tensing. I started moving up and down his cock faster. He came deep in my throat and I swallowed it all. I then climbed up him and smiled. Dean smiled back before flipping me over and slowly kissing his way down my body. When he got to my sex he pulled my lips apart and flicked my clit with his tongue. I shivered as the pleasure ran down my spine. Dean began to suck on my clit while sliding one finger in me. The sensations were amazing and I didn't want it to stop. He continued his slow torture until I began to beg for release. "Please Dean, let me cum." I begged. He began to suck and flick my clit faster while sliding another finger in me and picking up the pace. I became a quivering mess as I finally came.

Dean slid up my body and began kissing me again. I could feel his cock on my thigh hard and ready to go again. I reached down and grabbed his cock guiding him into me. He filled me up completely and it felt wonderful. He began thrusting rough, but slow. I didn't want gentle and I was okay with the slow pace for now. I wrapped my arms around him to bring him closer. Dean then leaned up and grabbed my legs placing them on his shoulders so he could thrust even deeper. I was moaning, my breaths coming in pants and I felt like I was going to explode. Dean began to rub my clit and after a few strokes I was done for. I came unglued again, my back arched off the bed and I said his name breathlessly. That was when he started to pick up his pace, slamming into me hard and fast. The feeling was amazing and I didn't think it was possible put I soon came again and this time he came with me.

Dean caught his breath and rolled to the side. I snuggled into him and said, "That was amazing, but I think we should clean up before Sam and Bobby get back." Dean nodded his head and got up to get dressed. I followed suite and we soon had our clothes back on. I brushed my hair, put on deodorant and perfume so that I wouldn't look or smell like I just had sex. Dean went downstairs and done the same thing. When Sam and Bobby got back Dean and I were enjoying a beer and talking. I honestly thought we had got away with it until Bobby said, "Ya idjits better not have done it on my couch." I looked at him wide eyed with surprise. Should have known I wouldn't get away with it.

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austinmomma93 will be taking over from here. I'll still be posting the chapters, but from here on out it will be her work.


	5. Beyond Worried

NEW AUTHOR'S NOTE

Ok guys. Here is the next installment of Monsters Led to This. I have decided to take over from my good friend Maddie. I just hope I can do it (and her) justice and keep you coming back for more. I have lots of ideas of where I want this story to go. Also, I'm going to TRY to go along with the show, but I want to give our guys a little different life and where it could go. Enjoy and don't forget to leave us a review!

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Nicole's POV

After being ousted for our sexual escapades, Sam and Dean left to head to Missouri to find their dad. Dean had promised to keep in touch with not only Bobby, but me too. That was 2 weeks ago. I was keeping myself busy by trying to find out as much as I could about all things that 'go bump in the night'. Trying not to think about those gorgeous green eyes or that hard body on top of me, but that was proving to be difficult. I had "borrowed" one of Dean's flannels when he wasn't looking and wore it constantly. It smelled just like him; gunpowder, grease, and a cologne I hadn't put my finger on yet. It just made me miss him so much more.

One of Bobby's many phones that lined the wall in the kitchen began ringing so I stood up to answer it. I had learned from living here how to answer each line and what to say to inquiring law enforcement departments. Usually I would pretend to be the secretary of whatever agency was being verified. Realizing that it was the house line, I resigned to using less professionalism and just answered with a simple, "Hello."

"Nicole?"

"Yea."

"It's Sam. Sam Winchester. Bobby around?"

"Oh hey Sam. Yea, he's just outside. Do you want me to get him?"

" 'preciate it."

"Ok. Hold on."

Laying the phone on the desk, I headed toward the door to find Bobby, but of course my mind began wandering. Why hadn't Dean called? He said he would keep in touch. But at least with Sam calling, I knew they were at least alive.

"Hey Bobby!" I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled over the sounds of the car crusher. He turned to look at me and I held my thumb toward my ear and my pinkie toward my mouth and voiced "Phone". He nodded and reached to shut the crusher off. Silence filled the air around the lot. "It's Sam on the house line," I told him as we headed against the kitchen counter I listened to Bobby's side of the conversation."Sam." "Uh-huh. How bad?" "Where?" "I reckon I can do that."

As I listened intently to Bobby I realized that whatever trouble the boys had gotten themselves into was pretty serious, due to the change in old man's demeanor. He took the old faded ball cap off his head and ran a hand through his hair before placing the hat back on and turned to me."What is it Bobby?" I asked, feeling fear rising. "Nicole, it ain't good." Tears pricked my eyelids, but I staved them off."Tell me Bobby!" I practically screamed, begging him to alleviate this fear I felt."There's been an accident," he began. "John and Dean-"

I could no longer hold the tears back and they started fall torrentially. In the little bit of time that I had known Dean Winchester, I had fallen for him and fallen hard! "Is he dead?" I begged, not knowing if I really was ready for the answer. "Right now, no," Bobby told me. "But it don't look good. Listen, kid, Sam wants me to come there and tow the Impala back here. You're welcome to come with." "You bet your ass, I'm coming with!" I said, rushing to grab whatever I could get that I would need to take this trip.

The ride to Missouri from Sioux Falls took a little over 8 ½ hours due to the tow truck's age and inability to go over 55 mph and that in and of itself was nerve wracking as fuck. On the trip, Bobby explained that an 18-wheeler had slammed into the side of the Impala. Sam had escaped with minimal injuries. John not only suffered severe injury to his liver and kidneys, but he also suffered blood loss and had a head trauma. Dean was in bad shape and was in a coma. Hearing this news, my heart broke and I prayed we made it before anything worse could happen. I just wanted to get to Dean and make sure he was okay. I wanted to hold him and tell him I was there and would be there for him. I wanted to be able to look into his eyes and tell him that I really liked him; like, really liked him. I wouldn't call it love. It was too soon for that, but not far off. I sit in the passenger seat of the tow truck, stock-still. My eyes were red, puffy and burning. I felt as if all the water in my body had escaped through my tear ducts and had dried on my face.

But as soon as I saw the wreckage that was once the sleek, beautiful, black muscle car that Dean loved and referred to as Baby I lost it once again and all new tears slide down my cheeks. I hid my face in my hands and cried like I never cried before. Even after my dad, I never cried this hard. Not saying that losing my dad to a demon wasn't sad, but this was something different. Sobs wracked my body as I sat there and let all the emotion wash over me. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Sam had opened the passenger door to console me.

Looking up at the younger Winchester, I noticed that the right side of his face was bruised and battered, and his lip was split. There was also a small laceration across the bridge of his nose. Knowing he was trying to comfort me all the while in his own sort of emotional pain made the tears come all that harder. Sam grabbed my hand and helped me out of the truck to wrap me into a hug. I feel his arms come around me and as I cry onto his shoulder, I bask in the comfort he provides me.


	6. He’ll be Fine He has to be

Sam held onto me as I cried into his shirt. He hugged me tight, surprised at the emotions I was showing for his family. I had only known them for a short time. When I finally calmed down and got control he loosened his grip on me and I stepped back.

"Sorry, Sam."

" 's okay, Nicole."

"How are they?" I asked him,

"Dad's good. He's actually doing okay. The truck hit us on his side. I'm surprised he's not worse," Sam answered, looking over at what's left of the Impala. "Dean is going to be pissed."

Bobby steps up to Sam's side.

"Look Sam. This…this just ain't worth a tow. I say we empty the trunk, sell the rest for scrap."

Sam and I both answer, "No!"

"Listen," Sam continues. "Dean would kill me, hell he'd kill all 3 of us if we did that. When he gets better, he's gonna want to fix this." I nod my head in agreement. Damn Bobby for even suggesting something as ludacris at getting rid of the car. I know Dean wouldn't want to give up on the car and I vow to help Dean any way I can to repair it.

Taking a piece of paper out of his pocket, he hands it to Bobby.

"What's this?" Bobby asks as he looks at the list.

"Dad said you could get that for him, for protection," Sam answers.

Bobby frowns as he looks back at the paper.

"What's going on?" I ask noticing Bobby's furrowed brow.

"Son, this ain't for protection. It's for summoning."

"Summoning what?" Sam asked, confused.

"A demon."

I followed Sam through the halls of the hospital toward Dean's room, trying to give myself a pep talk for what I was about to see. But no amount of preparing would have worked when I walked through the door. The sight stopped me in my tracks and I leaned on the door jamb.

Dean, my Dean, was lying there unconscious. Tubes and wires everywhere. Machines beeping and whirring in the otherwise quiet room. I try to hold back the tears I feel welling up in my eyes but to no avail. I feel them roll down my face. I gradually make my way to the side of the bed and gaze at Dean's face. Other than the gash on his forehead and the blue and white tube between his lips, he looks like he's sleeping. I calmly touch his hand with my fingertips, wishing he'd just wake up and link his with mine.

"You ok here?" Sam asks quietly. "I've got to go talk to Dad."

I nod, not wanting to take my eyes off Dean.

I hear Sam pick the duffle bag of the floor and then I feel him squeeze my shoulder before he leaves.

"Dean," I whisper. "Please wake up."

Noticing a chair pulled up to the other side of the bed, I walk to it and sit down, never looking away from Dean. I lay my hand over his, curling my fingers around it.

Suddenly, the machines all start beeping erratically and alarms are ringing loudly.

Nurses and doctors rush in and one ushers me to the door. I stand there, watching through tears as they begin working on Dean, adding more wires and medicine to the IVs. Sam appears at my side and we watch as they try to resuscitate Dean. I grab his hand and we both cry. "Still no pulse," a nurse announces. "Charge to 360," the doctor orders. I faintly hear what sounds like Dean yelling, "I said get back!" I look at Sam to ask if he heard it, but I can tell by the look on his face that he indeed had.

"We have a pulse. We're back in sinus rhythm." Another nurse declares. Both Sam and I sigh and turn to hug each other. "I have to go talk to Dad," Sam says as he lets me go. "Go, I'm staying with Dean."

An hour later Sam returns to Dean's room, holding a brown paper bag.

"Hey."

"Hey Sam," I say, looking at him. "What's in the bag?"

"I know you heard it. Heard Dean yelling," I nod. "I think he's still around, like his spirit or whatever And I think I know how we can talk to him."

"Okay?" I say, with a questioning look.

Sam removes a box from the bag. It reads 'Mystical Talking Board'.

"Really Sam?" I half-laugh. "A Ouija board? You got to be kidding me!"

"Hey, don't make fun of me, okay?" he says defensively. I hold up my hands in surrender. I really don't think this will help but I get up and join him in the floor, the Ouija board laid out in front of us.

"Ready?" Sam asks me.

"As I'll ever be," I answer, feeling a flicker of hope that we will be able to contact Dean. "Dean, are you here?" Sam asks into the air.

I intently watch as the pointer moves toward YES on the board. Sam and I both gasp. "It's good to hear from you, man. It hasn't been the same without you, Dean." I stare at the empty spot across the board, almost wishing Dean would appear. I know that's not possible though. He's lying in the bed behind us. The pointer begins moving again so I focus on it.

"H."

"U." Sam says each letter that is pointed to. "Hunt? Hunting? What, are you hunting?" Sam asks as the pointers keeps sliding across the board. It slides up to YES and Sam and I look at each other. "It's in the hospital, what you're hunting? Do you know what it is?" Sam inquires.

YES. This time, I read each letter that is represented.

"R."

"E."

"A."

"P."

"A reaper", Sam finishes. "Dean, is it after you?"

YES.

"If it's here naturally, there's no way to stop it," Sam looks at me, explaining.

"No, no, no, there's gotta be something we can do," I say, tears back in my eyes. "Dad will know what to do," Sam says then jumps up and leaves.

I look at the board, tempted to ask Dean if he had feelings for me, but I decide against it and get up to return to my seat beside the bed. Sam returns with a brown leather book in his hand. "So Dad wasn't in his room. But I got his journal, so who knows? Maybe there's something here."

Flipping through the pages of the journal, Sam occasionally looks up to Dean and the over to me.

He looks back to the book in his hand, turns a page and then speaks, "Reapers."

"What's it say Sam?" I ask, leaning up hoping that we can find something to help Dean avoid the reaper.

"Reapers can alter human perception. Basically, they can make themselves appear however they want. "

"So you're saying this reaper could actually be anyone in this hospital?" I ask Sam and he nods. "Like it could be a doctor or a nurse or even a visiting family member?"

"Yea, I guess so," Sam says, sounding defeated. "Well, this just keeps getting better and better." I say sarcastically.

I grabbed Dean's hand and hold it again, feeling the fear of losing him bubbling up inside. Sam walks up to the bed beside the chair and begins talking to Dean.

"Dean, are you here? We couldn't find anything in the book. I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep trying, all right? As long as you keep fighting. I mean, come you can't…you can't leave me here alone with Dad. We'll kill each other, you know that."

"Shut up Sam." I whisper, but loud enough for him to hear me, but he keeps talking. "Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again."

"Shut. Up!" I scream. "You act like you've already given up on him." I look up at Sam with tears streaming down my face. "You can't just give up that easy!" I twist my head back to Dean as I barely feel his hand move beneath mine.

Dean gasps and suddenly wakes, choking on the tube in his throat. I stand up as I squeeze his hand to let him know I'm here. He rolls his eyes and looks at me.

"Dean?"

Sam jumps and runs into the hallway. "Help! I need help!"


	7. You Win Some, You Lose Some

A couple of nurses rush in and see that Dean is awake and fighting the breathing tube so they work quickly to check his vitals and prepare to remove the tube. I let go of his hand and step back as to not be in their way. "Sir, I'm going to need you to hold still so we can take the tube out of your mouth," the nurse explains to Dean. Dean nods slightly and tries to relax. He reaches for my hand and the nurse takes notice. "Ma'am, you can stand right here and hold his hand," she directs me, so I step up and lace my fingers through his. I can see the smile in his eyes and I return it, rubbing my thumb across his knuckles.

As soon as he tube is removed, and the nurses leave, Dean tries to speak but nothing comes out. I turn to the side table and pour some water from the pitcher sitting there. I help him lift his head with one hand while I gently place the cup to his lips with the other. He takes a long sip and lays back. "Hey sweetheart," Dean whispers, his throat still tender from the tubing. "Dean Winchester, you scared ten years off my life," I tell him, running my palm over his head.

"I'm sorry. Where's Sammy?"

"He went to tell John that you are awake."

"What happened?"  
"A semi hit you out near Council Bluffs."

"How long was I out?"

"Day and a half."

Sam walks in then, followed by John, who has his arm in a sling. He smiles at me, "How you doing Nicole?" I smile back at him, nodding my head. "Good," I answer.

Turning his attention to Dean, he asks, "How you feeling dude?" "Fine, I guess. I'm alive." Dean answers. I can tell that Dean is not used to type of behavior from his dad. He was taught to be a good soldier and carry his burdens in secret. "That's what matters."

Sam interrupts and angrily asks his dad, "Where were you last night? We needed your help and you weren't in your room."

"I had some things to take care of."

"Like what? You know what, never mind. We needed your help but surprise, you were nowhere to be found. Typical!"

"Come on, Sam," I pleaded, not wanting a big fight to happen right when we just got his brother back. "Everything's okay now. Dean's awake, no more reapers after him."

John walks further into the room towards Sam. "Can we not fight? You know half the time we're fighting, I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Sammy, I…I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore." John's shoulders slump over, but he quickly recovers as his eyes land on mine and Dean's interlocked hands. But before he can inquire any further, Dean speaks up.

"You said a reaper was after me?" He looks between Sam and me.

"Yea," Sam sighed. "Guess you fought it or got away. You really don't remember anything?"

"No, except this pit in my stomach. Something's wrong."

None of us could ask him to elaborate because the doctor enters with Dean's chart.

"I can't explain it. The edema's vanished; internal contusions are healed' vitals are good." He looks at all of us and then to Dean. "Son, I'd say you have some king of angel watching over you. "And with that he left.

"Sam, you and Nicole want to run and get me a cup of caffeine. I'm a little tired," John asks. "Sure," I answered, squeezing Dean's hand and leaning over to kiss him softly. I turn and follow Sam out of the room.

The stupid coffee vending machine is possessed! It has to be. Each time Sam inserts the bill, it just spits it right back out. I even try using the change I had in my pocket but instead of accepting the coins, they just fall straight through to the coin return tray.

"Dammit!" Sam says, slapping the front of the machine. "How difficult can it be to get a cup of coffee?"

"Maybe it needs exorcised," I say with a giggle, earning a perfect bitchface from Sam.

"Sorry," I apologize and try to feed another, different bill into the slot. Once again, the bill goes in, the machine whirs and then the bill reappears.

"Demons I can deal with, but a simple coffee machine is terrorizing me, "Sam laughs as he runs his fingers through his hair. I lean close to the machine and whisper, "I know you can do it. Take our money and give us coffee." I try the bill again and surprisingly it's accepted. I grinned up at Sam and step back, so he can make a selection.

Walking back toward Dean's room, Sam and I were joking that the coffee machine was obviously male, and my sweet words was what caused it to finally function correctly.

Passing by room after room with closed doors, Sam suddenly stops at an opened one. Dropping the cup of coffee in the floor, he yells, "Dad?!" and runs into the room where an unconscious John is on the floor. I look down the hallway and see people mulling about, so I run in that direction. "Help! Help us!"

A nurse steps up to me and I point in the direction of John's room. Then I take off in a sprint to Dean's room with tears streaming down my face. Dean is lying in bed, staring at the ceiling but when I rush in, he looks at me and sits up.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"It's John," I say, panting.

He bolts out of bed and runs through the door past me. We run and see multiple medical personnel darting with supplies and machines into a room. Sam is standing across the hallway, watching. Once we arrive, the three of us try to enter the room but a nurse stops us. "No, no, it's our dad. It's our dad!" Dean screams at her. "Come on!"

We watch as they perform CPR and use an ambo bag that when squeezed pushes air into his nose and lungs. "Stop compressions," the doctor orders.

I slip my arm around Dean's waist and he lays his arm over my shoulders. We hold on to each other tightly.

"Still no pulse."

"Come on! Come on!" Dean silently pleads.

"Okay, that's it everybody. I'm calling it. Time of death, 10:41 a.m.," the doctor announces. As soon as the doctor called time of death, I lose it and wrap my other arm around Dean. His arm winds around me and I lay my head against his chest, my tears surely soaking the white T-shirt he is wearing.


	8. Finding Hope in The Loss

The blaze lit up the night sky; embers rising above and then falling back down, fizzling out. I was standing there between the two brothers, watching as the flames slowly devoured the body of John Winchester. I had all but planned to stay back and allow Sam and Dean their privacy as they bid their father goodbye one last time. But when the pyre they had built glowed incandescently, I felt the pull to offer my own last farewell. A last send-of to the man who had helped me defeat the demons that had killed my father and kidnapped me. The day my whole life changed.

John had shown up just as I had overtaken one of the demons that had taken me hostage, planning on handing me over to their boss, whomever that was. As I used my hidden talent of super strength, I broke the ropes tying me to the metal chair and jumped to subdue and overpower the monster who was, I assumed, the leader of his little rogue posse. John had exorcised the others and had taken me to his hunting buddy, Bobby Singer.

I walk up and stand between the two brothers, watching as John's body slowly turns to ash. I feel Dean slip his hand into mine and I weave my fingers with his. I look down at our joined hands and slowly lift my head to look at him. I knew he was hurting. They had just gotten their father back after he'd been missing and now he was gone forever. I know just how that felt.

Dean's face is a myriad of emotions. Hurt, sad, pained, betrayed. His eyes are red-rimmed, and his cheeks are stained with tears. I squeezed his hand in solidarity, just to let him know I am here for him. But seeing the misery on his face, had me letting my own tears flow. I cry for my dad; for the pain I sympathized for the brothers; for John, whose life ended way too soon.

"Before he..." Sam begins to talk, getting overwhelmed but continuing. "Before, did he say anything to you? About anything?"

I glance at Dam and my heart breaks even more. He is rocking side to side, fidgeting and I can see the tears threatening to overflow.

Dean never takes his eyes off the flames but answers, "No. Nothing."

Dean retreated to his room upstairs at Bobby's and had not come back down the rest of the evening. Once Bobby and Sam retired for the night, I slowly made my way to him. I knew he was hurting and I wanted to just be there for him. Be his rock, his confidante, a shoulder to cry on.

After knocking lightly, I open the door and easily creep into the room, shutting the door behind me. Dean was laying on the bed staring upward at nothing at all. I tiptoe over and lay beside him. Never taking his eyes off the ceiling, he wraps an arm around my neck and pulls me close. I turn and nuzzle up to him, laying my arm across his middle. I want to be a comfort, but I also didn't want to cause his stress either. We lay there, cuddled together for what seemed like hours before he spoke.

"I can't believe he's actually gone," Dean whispers, his voice strained after not using it for a while.

"I know," I replied. There was nothing else I could say. I couldn't bring his father back. He hugged me tighter and I could feel his sobs wrack through his body. Dean would never actually allow anyone to see him cry, the solitude of the darkened room his only escape.

Without moving our arms, Dean turned toward me, and I could see the ghost of his tears streaking his face. His eyes were even more red-rimmed than earlier and his cheeks and nose rosy.

We laid there and just stared at one another. I wanted to be his shelter in any storm he encountered. I knew I loved him, but I was still unsure how he felt.

"Nic?"

"Hmm?"

"Help me forget. Just for a little while." It wasn't a question or a demand. Dean just wanted-no, he needed-peace.

"How?" I asked, not fully understanding the request.

Dean calmly leaned toward me, gently touching his lips to mine. I ran my hand up his side, over his shoulder and laid it on his neck behind his head. I parted my lips and he took the hint, pushing his tongue through. We lay there exploring one another's mouths, tongues wrestling.

Dean casually pushed me until I was on my back and he was leaning over me, never letting our mouths part.

As soon as I felt Dean's hand slide over my stomach, I stopped kissing him, opened my eyes and grabbed his wrist. Looking up into those forest green orbs, I saw the want-the need-to just be taken away. Dean needed an escape from reality, even just for a little while.

I let go of his wrist and wordlessly tell him he could continue. Dean slips his hand under the top of my shorts and into my panties, stopping just before cresting over my mound. He brought his lips back to mine and we rejoined our tongues.

As his tongue fought for dominance he let his hand travel further down and began rubbing my clit with his middle finger, the rough pad of his digit causing a delicious friction. My hips involuntarily bucked and I feel Dean smile against my lips. I moan into his mouth and his lowers his hand to tease my entrance.

I wrap both arms around Dean's neck crossing my wrists behind his head. His finger passes through my folds and he glides into my core, easing in and out over and over.

"Mmmm, Dean," I murmur against his lips. He adds another and curls them to hit my g-spot. "Oh god," I utter as he continues his ministrations. His movements are steady and determined. I unlock my wrists and run my hand over his head, carding my fingers through his hair.

He kisses the side of my mouth, down my jaw and onto my neck, lightly sucking and nipping at the juncture of my shoulder. His other hand gently caresses down my side, slipping into the edge of my shots and continuing down my thigh and calf, taking my shorts and panties with it.

While my bottom half is exposed, Dean lifts onto his knees, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, pulling them off. As he undresses, I sit up and pull my top over my head and throw it in the floor. I lay back and watch as Dean finishes by pulling his t-shirt over his head, letting it join mine.

His thick, hard cock springs out and I can see pre-cum leaking already. Dean lays over top of me and pecks my lips, looking into my face. I can see the hurt and pain of losing his father in his eyes, but I also see the lust he has for me. He swipes the hair from my forehead and captures my mouth in a heat-searing kiss.

Dean lines his tip to my puss and slowly thrusts in. His movements are soft and languid. His arms snake under mine and he holds himself on his forearms. We are touching from our chests to our toes. I can feel his heartbeat on my breast. I reach up and cup his cheek. We are no longer kissing but lips still touching, panting into one another's mouths, breathe mixing. He presses his forehead to mine, rocking his hips slowly, his dick pushing in and pulling out in a steady, even drag. I stretch my arm out and up bending it over my head. He chases my hand, lacing his fingers with mine and just holds it there.

As much as I enjoyed my first time with Dean a few weeks ago, this is different. This is more sensual; more personal. Words need not be spoken' our movements convey it all.

The emotion of it all finally hits me, and I can start feeling that coil in my abdomen tighten. I know Dean can tell I'm getting close because he speeds his thrusts, barely, and growls low. He is close too. I feel the coil snap and my whole body ignites. My skin feels like it's on fire; my walls clench down on him, drawing his own end out. He spills ropes of his seed inside me and stills.

He kisses my lips; my cheeks; my forehead; my eyelids; wherever he can get his lips to without much movement he lands a kiss there. One last long kiss to my lips and his pulls out of me and settles on the bed beside of me, hugging my back to his front; covering us both with a blanket.

"Thank you, Nic," he mutters, placing kisses on my shoulders. I ebb off to sleep in Dean's arms.

Dean is adamant about getting Baby, his prized 1967 Chevy Impala, back in running condition that for the last week he has spent hours, daylight to dark, working on her.

I keep my self-proclaimed promise and help him when I can. So far, we have beat out dents, dislodged crushed doors, detached flatten, almost shredded tires and cleaned broken glass from the pristine leather seats.

I'm sitting here, holding a ratchet while watching Dean's legs move, as he struggles to loosen a bolt on the undercarriage.

I see Sam approach and I smile up at him.

"How's the car coming along?"

"Slow," Dean answers as he rolls the creeper out from under the car and stands. Walking toward the work bench, Sam follows.

"Need any help?" Sam asks sincerely.

"You under a hood?" Dean responds. "I'll pass. 'Sides Nic's been helping." He leans over and I reach up as he gives me a chaste kiss.

"Need anything else then? Sam inquires, honestly.

"Stop it, Sam."

"Stop what?"

I sit there and listen to the conversation, not wanting to interrupt the brothers.

"Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise."

"Dean, we've been at Bobby's for a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once. I'm here if you need to talk," Sam says.

"You know what. You're right. Come here. I'll lay my head on your shoulder. We can cry, hug. Heck, I'll even slow dance."

"Dean, he's just trying to help," I say, defending Sam.

Dean and Sam both look at me and Sam smiles towards me, thanking me.

"Don't patronize me, Dean. Dad is dead, the Colt is gone! Seems pretty damn like the demon is behind it all and you act like nothing happened," Sam pleads.

Leaning against the workbench, Dean wipes his hands on a grease rag. "What do you want me to say, Sammy?"

"Say something. Hell say anything. Aren't you angry? Want revenge? All you do is sit out here all day working on this damn car!"

"Revenge, huh?" Dean asks, incredulously. "Sounds good. Got any leads on the demons? Making head or tails of Dad's research. Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it-oh. No, wait. Like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, Sam! Nothing, okay? So, you know, the only thing I can do. I can work on the car." Dean squats to restart working on the car.

"Well, we've got something, all right," Sam says as he pulls out a cellphone. I stand and walk over, curious as to what he's found. "It's one of Dad's old phones. Took me awhile but I cracked the voicemail code. Listen to this."

Dean stands and takes the phone from Sam, holding it to his ear. I lean closer to listen and Dean puts the phone between us so we both can hear.

A woman's voice speaks. "John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn. You know I can help. Call me."

"That message is four months old," Sam explains.

"Dad saved this chick's message for four months?" Dean asks and Sam nods. "Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?"

"No, but I ran a trace on her phone number and got an address," Say says.

"Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars." Dean instructs, and Sam turns to go back inside.

"Road trip?" Dean asks, looking at me and holding his hand out.

"Guess so," I answer, taking his hand.


	9. History Lessons

"Come on man," Dean complained. "You've got to have something, anything else!" I dropped my bag at the bottom of the staircase and walked into Bobby's kitchen. Bobby was sitting at the table; Sam was leaning against the counter and Dean was pacing back and forth through the room. "You sure you have nothing else capable of making a 5 hour trip? That's practically a milk run!" Dean said, throwing his hands in the air. I walk over next to Sam, lean over and whisper, "What's wrong?" "Bobby's limited on running vehicles. Only thing he has available is a minivan. Dean's not too keen on that idea," Sam answered me. "Yeah, I can't imagine Dean driving something like that," I chuckled. "Well, imagine it sweetheart," Dean said as he grabbed a set of keys off the table. The grimace on his face caused Sam and I to laugh.

The trip to Harvelle's Roadhouse was THE longest trip I have ever taken. And I've traveled from the east coast to the west coast! The minivan is beat up and has been poorly maintained. The interior is stained, the fabric on the ceiling is ripped and peeling, the carpet in the floorboards is gone, the air conditioning doesn't work, forcing us to roll down the windows, which in turn causes the loose ceiling fabric to flop in the wind. The tape deck doesn't work and the AM/FM radio picks up nothing but static almost the whole way there. It. Is. as we pulled up to the two story wooden building, Dean continued to complain about the ride. I knew he missed his car, burgers come on already! We all missed the Impala with her comfy, butter-soft leather seats, her shocks that absorbed the rough uneven highways and the gentle purr of her engine sans the whining that the van had. Sam and I both roll our eyes and sigh when Dean cut the engine. "This is humiliating," he grumbles, opening the door and getting out. "I feel like a fucking soccer mom." I couldn't help but giggle.

"You know it's the only car Bobby had running," Sam repeats for the umpteenth time. "What are you laughing about giggles?" Dean looks over at me as Sam walks toward the side of the building. "Hello? Anybody here?" "Nothing," I say with a smile on my lips. "Just imagine not many soccer moms wear flannels and jackets." Dean smirks at me and playfully answers, "Oh, shut up." as he pushes against my shoulder. We walk up to the door of the Road house and I notice the signage on the window says they are closed. "Hey," Dean looks toward Sam. "Did you bring the, uh..."

"Of course," Sam answers and tosses his lock pick set to his brother. Dean catches it and within 60 seconds we open the door and walk inside. The saloon is empty and quiet, save for a fly or two buzzing; a light bulb to our left flickers and goes out, causing a few harmless sparks. As we walk through the bar, our boots echo off the wooden floor. Sam strolls toward the back of the room, where a man is passed out on a pool table. "Hey buddy." The guy doesn't move. "I'm guessing that isn't Ellen." Sam heads off toward a door to the right as Dean and I begin backtracking into the main area. I notice that Dean suddenly stills and we hear a gun being cocked. "Oh god, please let that be a rifle." "No, I'm just real happy to see you," a female voice speaks. "Don't move."

"Not moving, copy that." Dean says, glancing toward me. I slowly nod, telling him I'm not moving either. "You know, you should know something, miss," Dean speaks trying to distract the female. "When you put a rifle on someone, you don't put it right up against their back. Because it makes it real easy to do," Dean swiftly and fluidly turns around and grabs the gun, disabling it. "That." The young blonde punches Dean in the nose and takes back the rifle. I turn as Dean doubles over, clutching his nose and snarl at her. Who the hell does she think she is? She looks at me and back at Dean, who has righted himself, but is still holding his nose.

"Call off your attack dog, will ya?" she demands, staring at me. Who the hell is she calling a dog? That just pisses me off more. I lunge for her, but Dean quickly grabs my shoulders. I look at our wannabe captor. She is an attractive petite thing so I know I could take her with no problem, but I also realize I could easily kill her if I don't keep control. "Sam, need some help in here!" Dean yelled holding me back. I know he can probably feel the power radiating from me even though I haven't let it take complete hold of me yet. "Calm down, Nic," he whispers in my ear.

"Sorry, Dean," Sam answers, slowly entering the same door he left through. "Can't right now." His hands are on his head. "I'm a...little tied up." Nodding his head, I notice an older woman behind him with a handgun pointed at his head. "Sam? Dean? Winchester?" she asks. Both boys respond, confused, "Yeah."

"Mom, you know these guys?" pretty young thing beside me asks. "Yea, I think these are John Winchester's boys." she says, lowering her gun. "Hey, I'm Ellen. That's my daughter Jo your friend there is glaring at." Jo stares at me and I stare back. "Hey." she says nonchalantly, looking back and forth between me and Dean. "You gonna hit him again?" I ask, trying to lose some of the venom in my voice.

Ellen hands Dean a small towel filled with ice. "Who's your friend?" she inquires nodding toward me standing a few feet away."Nicole, a family friend," Dean simply says. I wait, hoping for him to further justify my presence, but am met with silence. After a couple of minutes, I turn and go sit at a table across the room. I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but I only came on this trip to be with Dean. I thought maybe he felt a little something for me, but apparently I'm just a friend.

I watch as Sam and Dean discuss their father with the two women. Jo is reclined with her elbows on the bar, eyes intently focused on Dean. I lean back in my chair, cross my arms and look out the window. I definitely don't want to see her eye-fucking the man I'm in love with. "Ash!" Ellen yells, catching my attention. The man passed out on the pool table jerks and looks over his shoulder. "What? Closing time?"

"That's Ash?" Sam asks, surprised. "Mm-hmm. He's a genius." Jo answers with a smirk. I watch Ash join the group at the end of the bar and a few minutes later Sam walks outside, only to return with a brown leather binder. Ellen walks over to the table I'm sitting at with an empty glass and a pitcher of water. Sitting the glass on the table, she fills it. "Here ya go, sweetie."

"Thanks," I say, smiling up at her. As I take a drink of the cold beverage I hear Ash say, "Business up front, party in the back" walking out of the room. I laugh, spewing out the water in my mouth. Sam, Dean, and Jo look over at me and I shrug my shoulders. Jo picks up a rag and sauntered over to wipe the table down. She eyes me like she doesn't trust me and I force a grin on my lips and take another sip. Dean walks over and sits in a chair across from me. Jo looks at him and smiles. "So, how'd your mom get into this stuff anyway?" he asks her. "My dad. He was a hunter. He passed away." "I'm sorry," Dean says, looking over at me. I speak up, "Sorry" but it goes ignored. "It was a long time ago. I was just a kid. Sorry to hear about your dad."

"Yea," Dean says, looking down at the table and then back up to her. "Guess this is an official meeting of the 'Dead Dads Club'." He flashes his eyes towards me and I just grin. Jo, continuing to pretend I'm not there, leans over towards Dean. "So, sounds like you got time to kill. Maybe tonight we could get pizza, a six pack and side one of Zeppelin IV." I await Dean's response. I want to know how he's going to react to such a cheap pickup line. "Wrong place, wrong time sweetheart." Well at least he shot her down but still it would be nice to be acknowledged. "Dean, come here. Check this out," Sam calls to him.

The older Winchester walks over to see a folder and papers laid out. "Hey, Nic, come look," Dean says over his shoulder. I walk up and pick the now empty folder up. It has minute details of the case written on the front in red marker.

COUPLE MURDERED

CHILD LEFT ALIVE

MEDFORD WISC.

"I told her we'd check it out," Sam explains. Reading over the information, Dean remarks, "You got to be kidding me, a killer clown?" "Yea. Left the daughter unharmed, but killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces actually." As I listen to them and scan over the case, I begin to feel my blood run cold. I read aloud, "Family was at some carnival that night. The, um, Cooper Carnival." I do not want to deal with carnivals. My experience with carnivals is not a nice one. I try to avoid them at all costs. I can feel the bile climbing my throat so I look away. "So how do we know it's not some psycho carnie in a clown suit?" Dean asks. I can't take any more. My breakfast is going to make a reappearance so I slap a hand over my mouth and run out the door.

Outside, at the back of the minivan, I loose it. Everything in my stomach is on the ground and I can feel tears pricking my eyelids. I steady myself by putting a hand on the dusty bumper. The guys come up behind me. "Nicole, you okay?" Sam asks, laying a hand on my back. Wiping my mouth with the bottom of my shirt, I tell him I'm fine. I slowly walk around to the side of the vehicle, sliding the door open. Sitting down, I look at both Sam and Dean who are crowding the opening, looking genuinely concerned. "Sorry guys. I'm okay. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to sit this one out." Dean looks at me and his eyes get wide. "You scared of clowns too? Sammy here is terrified of them," he says, clapping his brother on the shoulder. Sam throws a classic bitch face to his brother. I look up at them and say, "No, just psycho carnies in a clown suit who get off on kidnapping and raping a 9 year old little girl then leave me for dead."


	10. Hidden Memories

"Wha...what are you talking about, Nic?" Sam asks, his eyes wide. I glance at Dean and his are just as wide, silently questioning. Sliding across the bench seat of the van, I motion for the boys to sit, to get comfortable. Dean slides in beside me and Sam opens the passenger door, sits in the chair there and turns, both their attention on me.

I have told no one this information ever. I had carried it with me for years and to know that I would be not only reliving the nightmare, but entrusting my sordid history with the guy I was in love with and his brother was frightening. Would they look at me differently? No way would Dean want to touch me again after this truth comes out, I thought to myself. And knowing that, that he would look at me with disdain almost made me want to just tell them to forget it. But I knew that wasn't an option. Well, here goes nothing, I thought to myself. Taking a moment to center myself, I take a breath and begin to tell my darkest secret.

"When I was 9, Dad and I were in Chicago. He had been chasing after some really rare car, finally got a line on where to find one so we packed up and took off trying to find the seller. Anyway, we'd been stuck on the road, in our little clunker, for close to three weeks, trying to track down this elusive dealer. One day, I heard people talking about a carnival that was set up in the next town over. So I begged and pleaded with him to take me. He finally relented and the next morning , we set out to have a fun Daddy/Daughter day.

"We pulled in and I was so excited. I had never seen so many different sights all in one spot before. The carnival seemed to go on for miles and miles. Food vendors, rides of all shapes and sizes, people milling around everywhere. Kids my age and younger just running around, laughing and playing. I so wanted to be carefree like them, but I knew that Dad would never let me carry on that way. I was just a kid, ya know. Wanting to do regular kid things. I told him I wanted to try everything, which caused him to laugh the loudest and hardest I'd ever seen and heard." I stopped to wipe the tears that blurred my vision, remembering the sound of that laughter. Sam put a hand on my knee and Dean wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"Nicole, you don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Sam said softly. "If it's too traumatic." "No," I answered, looking at both brothers. "I need to tell someone. I've bottled it up for too long." Looking out the window, I continued. "That day was the best day of my life. I had eaten hot dogs, cotton candy, fried dough covered with sugar and chocolate. I rode all the rides a kid my age could. It was just getting dark and all the bright neon lights were starting to buzz on. I had to use the bathroom so Dad took me to the building where the restrooms were. He told me he would wait for me there, right at the door.

"What he didn't know was there was a back way into the building. As I was washing my hands, a man dressed in a faded clown suit and a painted face walked in. Little ole me never even saw him. He came up behind me, put his hand over my mouth and carried me out the backdoor. As he was walking toward the dark wooded area behind the carnival grounds, I kicked at him and screamed into his hand. He told me that if I didn't calm down he would kill my dad so I stopped. I just let...I let him...I just let him carry me off!"

My sobs are beginning to affect my ability to speak. Dean wraps his arms around me and holds my head to his chest. Once I'm able to control my crying, I sit up and Dean's arms fall away from me. I glance over but he has turned and was looking out into the vacant parking lot. His elbows are on his knees, his shoulders slump forward. I know he is beginning to reconsider having anything to do with me. Sam, whose hand is still resting on my knee, looks at me with somber eyes. "I'm sorry you had to ever go through that." At the sound of his brother's voice, Dean stands up out of the vehicle and walks away, never looking back. 'And that's how that ends,' I think to myself. 'Dean doesn't want anything to do with me now that he realizes just how tainted I am.' I feel more tears sliding down my cheeks as I grieve for the relationship I wanted and now could never have. I feel

Sam squeeze my knee, "It's okay, Nic. We're here for you. You won't ever have to go through that again." Poor, sweet Sam, I think. These tears aren't for my stolen innocence. These tears are for what will never be! I watch through hazy eyes as Dean continues walking away from where I sit, kicking at the gravel as he goes. Bye, my love. Goodbye.

~DEAN'S POV~

I couldn't take it anymore. Listening to what that monster did to her. Not even a monster, just a sick perverted human! Monsters I understand. Monsters almost always have an agenda. A reason for what they do. But humans? Humans are a whole other thing. How could someone see a sweet innocent little girl, happy and having fun, do something like that? Where does the idea to even do something like that come from? I just do not understand people. Glancing around I notice that I am completely hidden from view by the side of the Roadhouse. Squatting down, I pick at the toe of my boot. How can she be like the badass I see when I look at her after going through something like that? To hold that in for all these years. she's an amazing hunter, I know.

I've heard the stories, I know she can handle herself in any situation. Picking up a pebble, I stand feeling the weight of the rock in my palm. I bounce it in my hand a couple of times and then sling it toward the woods. Over and over again, I pick up gravel and just hurl them through the air. During my actions, I feel the hot moisture slide down my face and in that moment, I determine I will find out the whole story and do whatever I can to defend her honor. Wiping my hands on my jeans, I run my arm over my eyes and face to hide the breakdown I'd had. Walking around the side of the roadhouse, I see Jo headed my way, a smile forming on her face as she sees me.

~END~

Back in the Roadhouse, Sam is reviewing elements of the "Killer Clown" case at the bar, Ellen is busy wiping down tabletops, and Ash is still holed up in his room, going through John's notes. I make my way through to the bathroom to try to freshen up before anyone can see the mess all the crying has left my face in. After splashing cold water on my face, I lean onto the sink and look into the mirror hanging above it. My eyes are still bloodshot and swollen from crying, but the tear stains are gone from my cheeks. Drying my face with a paper towel, I stop as I begin hearing muted voices from the other side of the wall. I can't make out the words but I recognize the deep timber of Dean's.

Not wanting to exactly eavesdrop, but still trying to hear exactly what is going on. A couple more fuzzy sentences and then it quietens. I realize the bathroom must be right next to the storage closet, I had passed it on my way. The door had been marked Employees Only! I wonder what Dean is doing in the there and who is he talking to?

Throwing the damp towel in the trash, I unlock and open the door to head back out to the bar area. As I pass the open door of the room I glance in to see Dean buttoning his pants and readjusting himself. His hair is tousled and standing behind him is Jo, with kiss swollen lips. Neither see me so I hightail it down the hall back to the bar area. 'I need to get a bus ticket and get the hell out of here, I think to myself as I head straight for Ellen.


	11. Secrets and Expolsions

I walked to the bar and casually leaned on it, trying hard not to let on that my heart was literally breaking in my chest. I just told my deepest, darkest secret and he goes and fucks Jo in the supply closet. The story of my attack was too much for him, I thought. He'll never look at me the same way again. I'm tarnished.

Sam lifts his head, looking away from the case file and smiles at me. "You, ok Nic?"

"Yea," I respond, hoping my tone of voice doesn't give my heartache away. "Ellen, are there any bus stops around here? I think I'll just head back to Sioux Falls." Glancing at the clock on the wall, she answers, "Sorry, sweetie. The last bus pulled out an hour ago. Won't be another until mid-morning tomorrow."

"Nic, what's going on?" Sam asks, his voice laced with worry. "Why don't you just hang here until we handle this case and you can return with us?"

"Sam, I just wanna go home."

Sam lays his hand over top of mine. "I don't like the idea of you being alone. I know, I know you can take care of yourself, but you shouldn't have to. Just wait for Dean and I to get back. Wont be more than a couple days, I'm sure. Hang out here at the Roadhouse. Get to know Ellen and Jo. I'm sure you could use some girl talk." He laughs. "You sure ain't gonna get it from us or Bobby."

"Sure, sweetie. You are more than welcome to stay here. I got some rooms upstairs. No use in wasting funds for a ticket." Ellen tells me. Feeling overwhelmed by Sam's concern and Ellen's hospitality, I make the decision to stay...It will be nice to just be by myself and try to figure out what to do next. I'm also starting to become aware of how worn down I'm feeling so I opt to take up Ellen's offer of a room and try to rest. "Okay, maybe I'll just go up and rest." Looking over at Sam, I tell him to be careful and I'll see them when they get back.

By that time, Dean has returned and is talking over the case with Sam and Ellen tells Jo to show me to one of the rooms upstairs. I reluctantly follow the blonde vixen. She points to one of the doors and mumbles, "You can use that one."

"Dean, she said she was gonna just hang out here and rest. She's had a tough day. I'm sure it wasn't easy for her to bring up all those bad memories," Sam tells his brother as they are rechecking their weapons and loading the van.

"Yea, you're right. That could not have been easy. It was hard to listen to." Dean says as he slides into the driver's seat. "Maybe some rest will do her good." Driving away from the Roadhouse, Dean steals a glance into the rearview mirror. He is determined to make sure you never have to relive that nightmare again.

Waking up, I was glad I had had the forethought to turn the desk lamp on before I had lain down earlier. It was dark outside the window of the room I occupied. I sat and stretched, the nap had helped with the fatigue I felt. Looking into the mirror over the vanity, I eyed myself. My auburn colored hair fell over my shoulders and down my back; chestnut brown eyes were just lightly rimmed with red, from my crying bout earlier. Gazing down, I took in my body. I wasn't fat by any means, but my 5' 4" figure held a few more curves than most women my age. My arms were slightly muscular, due to all the workouts from fighting plus I hadn't completely given up on my physical training. My thighs were strong and sturdy. A few scars littered my body, but most could be covered with clothing. A tattoo of a symbol meaning 'love' with a dragon wrapped around it adorned my ankle. No, I wasn't a typical 26 year old, but I am rather impressed with myself. I thought Dean was too, but after earlier, I felt as if maybe he was more into skinny, blonde bimbos.

Descending the stairs, I stepped into the saloon. The atmosphere was a complete 180 from earlier. The stools that lined the bar were all occupied as well as a few of the tables. The jukebox in the corner was playing a Red Hot Chili Peppers song that I didn't recognize. The only reason I knew who the band was is because I recognized Anthony Kiedis' voice.

Most of the men who were settled throughout the area were immersed in conversations with one another and didn't pay attention to my presence, which I highly appreciate. Settling at the table I had taken earlier gave me a full view of all the activities taking place. Ellen was happily serving her customers, Ash was at the pool table drinking and loudly proclaiming to be "the best damn researcher this side of the Mason-Dixon". That gave me a chuckle.

Suddenly the front door opens and in walks Dean's skinny blonde bimbo along with another female. They were walking arm in arm and laughing. I watch as they walk up to the bar and Jo leans over and grabs two bottles. As she bends one of the men closest to her smacks her ass.

"Hey, hands off the merchandise Luke!" The guy sheepishly grins at her and put his hands up in mock surrender. Jo and her friend make their way through the tables and sits down at the empty one right behind me.

"So, tell me about this new guy." Jo's friend says. "You said he's unbelievably hot!" I wonder if she's referring to Dean.

"Maizy, you have no idea! Light brown hair, cute little freckles and drop dead gorgeous green eyes." Yep, Dean is their topic of conversation. "And built like you wouldn't believe. And let me tell you, the man has moves." I hear her sigh and I can feel my anger rising. I clench my fist and bite my tongue to keep my composure. I shouldn't be eavesdropping on their chat, but they are talking about the man I want. The man I thought I had.

"So, what are you going to do? Are you gonna see him again?"

"Hell yea. Him and his brother should be back in a couple of days. And I plan on getting my hands on it, um, I mean, HIM again," Jo says and begins to giggle. She is joined by her friend, "Jo, you bad, bad girl!"

Next thing I know, there is a commotion throughout the saloon. Men are jumping up out of their seats, pointing weapons at the door and windows. Taking a quick glance around, I notice that the floor is covered with spilt drinks and shattered glass. Ellen runs over and tells me, Jo and her friend Maizy to get upstairs now! I stand and rush through the racket and quickly climb the steps back to my borrowed room.

A few hours later, Ellen knocks on my door.

"Hey. Just wanted to check on you."

"I'm okay," I answer.

"Don't know what happened down there. Thought it was a demon making itself known but it never showed up," she explains.

I don't want to tell her I know what happened. I let the anger of knowing Jo had been with Dean get to me and I unconsciously set off.

"Hey Ellen," I say as she turns to walk out my door. "Is there any way I can get a ride to the bus station tomorrow. I think I'd be more comfortable at Bobby's."

"Sure thing darlin'."


	12. Breakdowns and Confrontations

The ride back to Sioux Falls is thankfully uneventful, save for the crying baby at the front of the bus. I just ignore the commotion and watch the scenery pass by my window. Stepping off the bus, I immediately grab a cab and head off toward the junkyard. Bobby meets me on the porch, standing there with his arms crossed he eyes me and asks, "What did those idjits do now?"

I paste a smile on my face. "Nothing Bobby. Took on a case for Ellen. I wasn't interested so I came back." I didn't want to rehash yesterday's events with him at all. "Uh huh," Bobby says. I can tell he doesn't believe me but he isn't the type to pry so he drops the subject. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he leads me into the house. I look at the couch and my heart drops. Slung across the back is one of Dean's flannels. I inherently walk over and pick it up. Raising it to my face, I breathe it in. It, of course, smells like him; leather, gunpowder and whiskey. Such a heady combination, but it's all Dean.

I wrap it around myself and slide my arms into the sleeves. Bobby is watching me from the kitchen and he rolls his eyes. "Okay. What did that idjit do now? Do I have to kill him when they get back?" Sighing, I turn and say, "No, Bobby. But I really don't want to talk about it." I look at him apologetically and he nods. Without another word, I climb the stairs and enter my room. Falling onto my bed, I pull the shirt tighter and fall to sleep.

I wake to a knock on my bedroom door. "Nic, you awake?" Bobby's gruff voice sounds through the wooden door. The clock on the side table reads 7:00 A.M . That means I slept roughly all the previous evening and through the night. "Uh," I groan. "I'm up."

Bobby opens the door and awkwardly leans against the frame, work thermos in hand. Bobby hardly ever entered my room and I could tell he is feeling a bit uncomfortable. I knew that when John had dropped me off here all those years ago it had been an adjustment to the old hunter. He had gotten used to living alone and seemed to prefer it at first. Now here he was standing in my room, looking completely out of his element and nervous.

"Gonna be out in the shop most of the day. Got a few chores to catch up on," he explains, hesitantly. "You can man the phones, right?" "Of course, Bobby!" I exclaim. "I'm the best damn secretary there is." With a guffaw, his eyes light up. "Don't I know it. Listen, I know you said you didn't want to talk about it," Bobby says, flustered. "And I know I probably wouldn't even know what to tell you. Hell, I don't know if I would even take my own advice, but I'm here. I'll listen, if that's what you need."

Feeling grateful for his attempt, I get up and walk over to put my arms around him. "Thanks, old man. But I think I need to figure this out for myself." "Who you calling old man, little lady?" Bobby scoffs. "Well, okay. I'll be out in the yard today if you need me." After Bobby leaves I go to the bathroom to shower and start my day. My hamper is full and I had noticed when I returned, the kitchen was a disaster. Bobby may not have minded living alone all those years, but he had never learned how to keep a clean house.

I grab my cell before leaving the room and open up my music app. I couldn't clean without music. It just made the mundane tasks go faster. As the first song begins, I slip the phone into the pocket of Dean's flannel and begin gathering the few dirty clothes that was lying around so I could start the laundry. As I'm doing dishes later, the atmosphere in the kitchen takes a nosedive. I went from humming along to some RB pop music to tears flowing down my cheeks as Chicago's "Hard to Say I'm Sorry" played.

I was sorry that I ever told Sam and Dean my story. That wasn't the hard part; what was hard is knowing that it had sent Dean right into Jo's arms and pants. That hurt me more than I could ever describe. My heart shattered at the thought of Dean thinking of me as some broken tainted thing instead of the woman he had made love to not that long ago. How could I ever make him understand that what I had went through, although horrific and demeaning, was not what made me, me?

Yes, it stole my innocence in believing there was no evil in this world, but I have come to terms with it. It does not define who I am today. I am me; Nicole, physical trainer with awesome supernatural abilities and a badass hunter of things that most people don't even realize exists. Drying my hands, I reach into the cabinet above me and grab the bottle of whiskey I know Bobby stores up there. Taking a glass from the cabinet, I walk to the table and pour the brown liquid into the glass and just listen.

 _Hold me now. It's hard for me to say I'm sorry. I just want you to know._

 _Hold me now. I really want to tell you I'm sorry. I could never let you go._

 _After all that we've been through, I will make it up to you. I promise to._

 _And after all that's been said and done, You're just the part of me I can't let go._

I finish off my drink as the song ends so I set the empty glass into the sink, put the decanter of whiskey back in the cabinet and go check to see if the wash needs to be put in the dryer.

Three days later

Dean's P.O.V.

"I'm tellin' ya, Sammy. If I never see another carnival in my life I will die a happy man!" Sam hums in agreement as we arrive back at the Roadhouse. "But at least no more people will be killed by the Rakshasa. Now, what are we gonna do about what Nic told us before we left? We got to try to help her, right?"

"Of course. She's family, man." I look at the building looming over us through the windshield. I'm dreading to see Jo. I just want to get inside and hold Nic in my arms and tell her it's gonna be okay. She was such a comfort to me in my moment of weakness. I want to do the same for her; let her know how much I care and that I'm here for her. I just hope she hasn't dwelt on what she told us and then us leaving soon after. She'll understand though. She's a hunter. She knows the job, right? She knows we have to get out there and fight, to save people.

Opening the door, I walk in expecting to see her sitting either at the bar or one of the tables. But all I encounter are Ellen and Jo. Great! Where is she? "Hey boys!" Ellen welcomes us as we sit at the bar. Handing each of us a beer, she congratulates us on a job well done. "Hell of a job! Your dad would've been proud." "Thanks." Sam answers, looking around the saloon area. "Hey, Ellen. Where's Nicole?"

"Oh hun. She had me take her to the bus station a couple days ago. She headed back to Sioux Falls." Swallowing the liquid in my mouth before I speak, I go to ask her if she knows why when Jo walks up and sits way too close to me. I glance her way and see her smile at Sam and nod her head to him to go away. I look at him, begging with my eyes not to leave me alone, but he misunderstands and gets up to leave anyway. "So, yea, um. I've…I've got to go. Over there. Right now. "

I look over at Jo and she smiles at me. "So, am I gonna see you again? Because, you know, I wouldn't mind." Deciding to let her down as easy as I can, I turn to her. "Can I be honest with you here. Normally, I would be hitting on you so fast it'd make your head spin. But, these days..."

"Wrong time, wrong place?"

"Something like that. Listen, that girl that was here, Nicole. Well, there's something there so, yea, way wrong time."

"Her?" Jo asks in disgust. "Why she take off then? Shouldn't she have waited on you? Seems to me she ain't all that interested if she couldn't wait to get away as soon as your back was turned." I slam the almost empty beer bottle on the bar. "You have no idea what you're talking about!" How dare she talk about Nic like that. She's such a kind soul who has been through more than she should have. Ash enters the bar holding a bizarre looking laptop, interrupting me. "Where you guys been? Been waitin' for ya."

"We were working a job, Ash. Clowns?" Sam speaks up, leaning against a pool looks bewildered, "Clowns? What the fuck?" "You got something for us Ash?" I ask the strange man. I just want to get the hell out of here and get back to Bobby's. I want to know what made Nic take a bus and head back. She knew Sam and I would be returning. After Ash tells us that he can't find the demon we are looking for and that he had a system set up to alert him if any of the signs or omens associated with the yellow eyed freak begin, I am astonished to learn that this bastard is smart. Like Sammy smart. M.I.T? Never would have guessed!

We pick up to leave and as we are walking out the door Ellen offers us a place to stay. I respectfully decline claiming to have "something to take care of". I want to get back to Bobby's, not only to finish putting Baby back together, but to find out exactly why Nic left. Did Jo say something to her about what happened in the storage room? No, I don't think she did. She seemed surprised and upset when I told her about Nic and me.

End Dean's P.O.V.

I heard the commotion downstairs and I knew the boys were back. As much as I wanted to hear about the case they had taken from Ellen, I cringe at the thought of seeing Dean. Knowing he had chosen to be with Jo after I had opened up and told my deepest, darkest secret still stung. And having to see the pity I knew was going to be in those beautiful green eyes, I decided to finish the chore I was doing before leaving my room.

Once I had the bed made and the rest of the room organized, I opened the door and ram smack dab straight into muscle. Looking up, I see hazel eyes looking back at me. Sam, thank God! "Are you okay Nic?" He asks me, truthfully concerned. "Why did you leave? Did something happen?"

I look down at my feet and nod. I hadn't really wanted to tell him, but I knew he was actually worried. I step aside and invite him into my room. Sitting beside him on the bed, I keep my attention on my hands in my lap. "After I told you and Dean about what happened, I saw him with Jo."

"What do you mean, with Jo?" I look up at him incredulously. "I mean, WITH her. In the storage room." I feel tears prick my eyelids and I swear at myself. I promised no more tears over Dean Winchester. And I wasn't going to go back in the promise, no matter what! "I'm sorry, Nic." Sam says as he pulls me up to him in a hug. "Dean's an idiot." He proclaims causing me to laugh. "It's true." Sam laughed with me. "God, Nic! No wonder you left. Wait," Sam said, as he remembered something. "That's why you wanted to leave, asked about a bus that first day, huh?"

"Yea. I just wanted to be home. Somewhere I felt comfortable and safe."

"I get it. I do, really," he says as I lean out of the hug and sit cross-legged on my bed, patting the mattress for him to join me. "Tell me about the case. Did you get the big bad?" "A rakshasa." I look at him in confusion so he explains. "It's an ancient Hindu creature. They appear in human form, feed on human flesh, can make themselves invisible and can't enter a home without being invited."

"Aha, hence the clown. Kids invite them in," I say, catching on.

"Yea because clowns aren't scary," Sam says sarcastically. "Rakshasa live in squalor and sleep on a bed of dead insects."

"Eww! So who was it?"

"The blind knife thrower. Got it in the in-house with a brass organ pipe."

"So, no more monsters befriending kids, munching on their parents?"

"Nope," Sam answers as he looks out the window, taking a breath. Looking back at me, I can see the care in his eyes. "Look, I gotta ask. Are you okay? Like, really. You can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you, Nic. We're family."

"Yea, Sam. I'm okay. Thank you, but really, I'd rather not. It hasn't caused nothing, but pain and heartache. I know I can't, but I'd rather not think about it anymore. It happened, it's done. It's in the past. Let's leave it there."

"Okay. But, just remember, I'm here, ok?"

"Gotcha," I said, with a smile. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna go get a snack."

After eating, I decided to take a stroll through the junkyard. Nothing like a bunch of beat up, rusted out old clunkers to meander through to get your thoughts in order. The sun is shining brightly and I can hear the birds that loiter in the trees at the back edge of the lot. Taking Dean's flannel off and tying it around my waist leaves me in my gray tank and I hope to at least get some color on my arms and shoulders.

As I walk toward the building that Bobby uses as a garage to fix and work on vehicles, I hear Sam talking. "What I'm doing right now, it's too little. It's too late. I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell! And I'm not alright...not at all. But neither are you. That much I know. " Walking around the garage, I see Sam and Dean standing behind Baby. "I'll let you get back to work," Sam says as he walks away.

I watch Dean, standing there, staring at the space Sam had just occupied. Suddenly, he picks up a crowbar and turns to swing into the window of one of the junkers, causing me to jump. Focusing on the Impala, Dean begins driving the crowbar into the trunk lid. Knowing how he feels about that car, I run to stop him. "Dean, stop!" Looking at me, he drops the weapon and lay his hand on the back of the car. "Why am I such a fuck up, Nic? Mom's gone, dad's gone, Sam blames me and I can't even find the stupid demon who took it all away."

"You're not a fuck up Dean. Yea, you made some bad choices recently, but you are not responsible for your parents death. Hell, you were only a kid when your mom died! And your dad? That's on him. He knew what he was getting into when he summoned that demon. None of that is your fault," I tell him as I walk closer. "But what is your fault, your most recent screw up...is what you did after I told you what happened to me when I was a kid."

I really hadn't planned on confronting him about his secret tryst with Jo, but something inside me just wanted to know. To know, why? Was I just another notch in his bedpost? I cross my arms over my chest as I wait to see what he says. "What? Nic, you knew we were going to take that job. I couldn't send Sammy alone. I had to go, don't you see? I'd have done anything to stay there at the Roadhouse with you to make sure you were okay," he steps towards me and put his hands on my arms. "I can't believe that happened to you and yet, here you stand, badass hunter chick that ain't afraid of anything."

"So, why'd you have a quickie with Jo in the storage room? Don't deny it, Dean Winchester," I threaten as I can see him begin to speak. "I saw you. Couldn't get away from the damaged girl fast enough, huh?" Dean stares at me for what seems like a millennia before he opens his mouth. "You think that's what happened? That I just heard your story and then turned away from you? Sweetheart, that's the farthest thing from the truth." Taking my hand in his, Dean leads me to the tool bench and sits me down. Crouched down in front of me, he looks up into my eyes and says, "Let me tell you what really happened."


	13. Making Up

Looking into those mesmerizing green eyes, I wait for Dean to speak. "Nic, is that really what you think happened?"

"I don't think, Dean. I know! I was in the bathroom and when I came out I saw you zipping up your pants and Jo was standing there, all euphoric and delighted. "Dean bowed his head in shame. He now knows I know exactly what happened and there is no chance denying his actions. Crossing my arms I decide to listen to whatever cockamamie take he would try to weave.

Watching him squirm and try to figure out how to explain is not my favorite thing to do. In fact, as upset as I am about the whole situation, I hate seeing him defeated like this. "Listen, I don't want to hear some crazy ass excuse, because I know what happened. You heard my story and was disgusted by it and she'd been flirty so you caved. I get it. But it hurt, Dean. It really fucking hurt!"

Dean still has his head bowed, so I continue. "I know I'm nobody. Just another one of your conquests, but I thought we were friends. And friends don't hurt each other like that."

The hurt radiating on his face was nowhere near anything I was expecting when he lifted his head and looks at me. It takes my breath away. "Sweetheart, you have it all wrong." He rests his hands on my knees. "I'm sure it looked like I ran straight to Jo, but that is the farthest thing from the truth. "The pain on his face and in his voice begins tearing down the wall I had built. "Tell me," I whisper. "What happened after you walked away?"

He lightly squeezes my knee and begins. "After you...after you told us about what happened to you, I was pissed. Not at you, but at that asshole. I walked away to get a handle on my anger. I wanted to run off and find that son of a bitch and rip him a new one. "When I thought I had calmed down enough I was headed back to you. To tell you how sorry I was that you had, had to suffer that! I wanted to hug you, comfort you, let you know I am here for you." Taking a breath, he continues. "On my way back I ran into Jo. She told me Ellen had sent her to get something, but it was on a shelf she couldn't reach. Asked me to help. So I followed her. Please believe me, if I had known what she was going to do, I wouldn't have."

"What did she do?" I asked softly.

"She took me to the storage room and walked over to one of the shelving units and pointed to the top one. When I stepped closer to see what she was pointing at, she turned and grabbed me and pulled me down into her. It happened so fast that her tongue was in my mouth before I could even blink." Listening to his side of the story, I can taste the bitterness of my temper. I am angry. Angry at Jo. Angry at Dean. Angry at myself. Looking away and out over the lot, I tried to calm myself. I did not want another re-occurrence of what took place at the Roadhouse.

Dean took my silence as permission to carry on. "As soon as I realized what she was doing, I pushed her away. I swear, Nic." Ok, I thought. That explains part of it, but I had to continue to torture myself. I couldn't just let resting dogs lie. "How did your pants get opened, then? Like I said, I saw." Dean bowed his head again, slightly shaking it. He now knew I wasn't buying his 'She came on to me story. Looking back up at me, there is something in his eyes. Annoyance? Guilt? Shame? I couldn't pinpoint it. But it was there. The tips of his ears are red and there is a light flush crawling up his neck to his cheeks.

Dean opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it and repeats the process. My heart breaks again as I sit here and watch him come up with an excuse. There isn't one and he knows it. "Come on Dean. Just admit it. You screwed her. Ok, so maybe it had nothing to do with me. But it happened and you know I know it happened. I'm just sorry that..." Using my knees, he pushes himself up and turns around. I watch as he walks back over to Baby and leans against the top. I jump as he slaps the cab. I've never seen him like this and it is beginning to scare me. "Dammit, Nicole!" As he turns, I noticeably jump, which causes Dean's whole demeanor to change.

"Baby, God! It's not what you're thinking at all." He looks at me with a sad smile. "Yes, she kissed me. Yes, I didn't react as quickly as I should have. And, Jesus, this is embarrassing." He admits, running a hand through his hair. "She was rubbing up on me and well, she grabbed me. And, geez, sometimes I can't control it. I got hard, okay. What you saw was me trying to get comfortable enough to show my face in that bar. In front of her mother! Fuck, this is embarrassing," he says with a chuckle.

I stand up and walk to him. I don't know what shifted, but I believe he is being honest. My arms hang by my sides as we stand there, staring at one reaches out and put his hand on my shoulder. Rubbing his palm down my arm, he takes my hand in his. "I'm sorry," we speak at the same time, which causes us to laugh.

With my fingers laced in Dean's, I allow him to lead me further into the junkyard. Reaching a somewhat secluded place he turns and pulls me toward him. I wrap my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest, taking in his scent. One of his hands comes under my chin, lifting my head to look me in the eyes. The vast amount of adoration I see shining there is almost enough to make my knees buckle.

I lick my bottom lip and swallow, my mouth dry. Reaching up I cup the left side of his face in my hand, offering him a loving smile. Dean's large hand comes up to cover mine giving it a squeeze as our eyes stay locked. He leans in and I stand on the tips of my toes pressing my lips to his. I moan, loving the feel of his lips against mine. His strong arms pull me close. With my chest pressed against his I run my hand through his hair.

Dean quickly spins me toward one of the cars that don't have any doors and walks me backwards. Feeling the car hit my calves I allow him to gently lay me down, never breaking our kiss. I don't know how long we lay there, tongues mapping out each other's mouths, caressing one another through our clothes. It's like we're afraid to break the kiss; that if we do the other would disappear. In this moment we are one another's life line.

When the need for oxygen becomes too much Dean pulls away from my lips, sucking in a breath. I do the same while watching his beautiful green eyes. He unties his flannel that is around my waist and gently begins tugging at my tank top. I lift my arms allowing him to remove it and watch as his eyes scan my body. There isn't a hint of disgust in his eyes, only love and admiration. The sheer amount of caring that comes from him has my breath hitching in my throat. Even after hearing my story he still looks at me the same.

I shoot up placing my lips upon his once again trying to let him know how much he means to me and how much his admiration means. He gently nips my lower lip as his deft hands work the clasp of my bra, having it off in mere seconds. One calloused hand caresses up and down my side before moving toward my breast. Dean runs a thumb over my nipple slowly moving it back and forth before finally rolling it in between his fingers. I moan into his mouth tugging lightly on his hair, which elicits a moan from him.

He once again breaks our kiss, but instead of pulling away he begins trailing hot open mouth kisses along my jaw and down my neck. When he reaches my collarbone he nips at it and then licks to soothe the sting. However his trail doesn't end there, he continues downward until he reaches my breast. Dean slowly licks around my nipple, causing me to squirm and whine. Noticing how worked up I am getting he takes mercy on me and wraps his warm lips around my nipple.

Feeling him suck, nip, and flick one nipple while he rolls the other has me bucking my hips. A thin sheen of sweat had already began to build on my skin. My nipple comes loose from his mouth with a wet pop as he trails kisses toward my other breast offering it the same treatment. Heart palpitating and breaths ragged I arch my back pushing myself closer to his hot mouth. I grab his arms tight helping me lift my body upwards.

Once he is done lavishing my breasts his lips blaze a trail downwards. Reaching my belly button he dips his tongue in swirling it once causing me to squirm. I hear a breathy chuckle from him, but he never stops his movements. Dean nips at my hipbone before licking his way to the other, giving it the same treatment. I groan and throw my head back. He is worshiping my body causing my mind to go blank. I can't think of anything, but his warm hands rubbing my sides as his mouth teases my pant line.

Dean's hands move down my sides once more before undoing the button on my jeans. Holding the edge of them he slides them, along with my boy-shorts, down my legs. He stands up, allowing me to kick off my shoes so that he can pull my clothes the rest of the way off. Once again his eyes drink me in showing nothing, but his love. I whimper feeling my body heat up under his intense gaze. His tongue comes out to lick his bottom lip, causing me to groan.

There is something about the way he does it that drives me insane. Dean leans toward me once again, grabbing my left leg and begins peppering kisses upward. When he reaches my sex he takes a deep breath in letting out a moan. His tongue darts out to lick my folds not quite pushing through causing another whimper to escape me. The next time Dean's tongue flicks out he pushes past my folds licking from my clit to my entrance. The third time from my entrance to my clit and there he stays.

Pressing lightly he begins moving his tongue in a circular motion. I groan and grip his hair, but not hard enough to hurt. When he sucks my clit into his mouth I arch my back causing him to push me back down. I could easily break his hold, however, I don't want to as I was enjoying his touch almost too much. Leaving my clit he dips his tongue into my entrance making me gasp and roll my hips.

He takes my clit into his mouth again as he pushes two long thick digits into my entrance. I instantly clench around him as my orgasm is balancing precariously on the edge. With just a few more flicks of his tongue and pumps of his fingers I fall over, allowing pleasure to burst through me. White lights appear behind my eyes as I grip the seats tight, not wanting to hurt him with my strength. Dean continues working me until I come down from my wondrous high.

He then stands up, toes off his boots, and removes his own clothing. It is now my turn to admire his body in all its glory. I bite my lip watching him move back toward me. Dean grabs my right leg as he slides between them wrapping it around his waist. I place my other one around him as well. One of his hands cup my cheek rubbing his thumb over my parted lips.

Dean's eyes never leave mine as he slowly pushes his cock past my slick folds and into me. When he bottoms out he closes his eyes, stilling his movements. I know it isn't to let me adjust; it is to make the tender moment last longer. When he finally does move it is in slow languid thrusts letting me feel every inch of his cock and him feel every inch of my sex.

I wrap my legs around him tighter before pulling him down into a searing kiss. His lips part, allowing my tongue to dart into his mouth. I groan at the taste of myself. Dean continues his slow thrusts never once picking up speed. The slow build of a second orgasm is almost torturous, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. Having Dean in my arms showing me just how much he still wants me despite everything was Heaven on Earth.

My walls clench around his cock making him moan into my mouth. Reaching between us he rubs my clit sending waves of pleasure through me. Warmth rushes over me as I come undone causing my body to tense and quiver. My walls flutter around his cock as a grunt leaves his lips. Feeling him swell I know it wouldn't be long until he comes as well. Dean's thrusts while still slow had lost their rhythm alerting me to his impending orgasm. After a few more pumps into me, I feel his warm seed as it coats my walls. When he comes back down he looks at me with a grin causing me to smile in return.

Dean reaches up and pulls my arm from around his neck and laces our fingers together. He leans down and places chaste kisses over my face, slowly reaching my lips. The spark that I feel as soon as our mouths meet is beyond electrifying. The sensation causes a shiver to run through my body. In his kisses, I can feel the adoration and devotion Dean is portraying. We continue kissing until I feel as though I'm going to pass out from lack of oxygen. Dean pulls back, pulls himself out of me and wriggles his body between me and the back of the seat. I turn toward him so we can both fit on the narrow bench. I use my free hand to lightly rub patterns on his chest. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you Dean. I should have just asked you instead of assuming."

"Hey, pretty girl. I don't blame you. I would've done the same thing. Listen, can I be honest with you?" I nod my head and he continues. "I'm no good at this relationship stuff. I've had one serious girlfriend in my life. Cassie. I really liked her. I thought she might have been the one. I even opened up to tell her about the life. Hunting and all those that go bump in the night. That's how sure I was!" I lift my head and look at him, knowing he can see the surprise there.

"Yeah, I tell her about ghosts and ghouls and vamps and werewolves. I tell her that all my life has been driving cross country saving people from monsters and about the dirty, dingy motel rooms. I wanted her to know the real me. To know that I wanted her with me. But, instead she looks at me with pure disgust, tells me that if I wasn't really into it I could've just said so. Then she tells me to leave. So I did. After that, I never really thought about relationships anymore." He kisses me on the tip of my nose and wraps his arm around me, pulling me close.

"Nicole, I know I'm not a decent man. I have my hang-ups. This life isn't an apple pie life bit you already know that. You have defeated demons, actual and not. Nicole Barker, will you be my girlfriend?"


	14. Vampires and Douchebags

The laugh that bubbles out of my mouth was beyond my control. As corny as that line is, hearing Dean asking me to be his girlfriend caused my heart to soar. "Dean Winchester, master of cheesy pickup lines and chick flick moment extraordinaire. Are you serious?" The crushed look on his face quickly shuts me up. "You know what. Never mind. " Dean lets go of me and moves to get up. I grab his arm and pull him back down beside me.

"Hold on," I beg. "I want to spend some time with my new boyfriend." I smile at him as he plops back down. Maneuvering myself on to him, I let him adjust until he is lying underneath me. Leaning down, I kiss his plump lips and press my body to his.

I grin into the kiss as I feel his fingers grip my hips. Bucking up toward me, I can feel him hardening so I place my knees to each side, straddling him. I move my hips up and down, causing his stiff cock to rub along my folds. His fingertips tighten and I'm positive I'll have bruises tomorrow.

Sitting up, I reach down and grasp him, lining him up with my entrance. Slowly I lower myself down his length until he is fully sheathed in my heat. Feeling him inside me, being connected to him in such an intimate way is overwhelming. My soul feels energized and revived.

I begin rocking back and forth, with my hands on his chest. The look in Dean's eyes is blissful and ecstatic. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth as he watches me rock on him. I can already feel the coil in my abdomen begin to tighten. I lift my hips and I can feel every inch of him slides across my walls. Rising up until only the head is left in me, I descend back down faster and I keep going at that pace. The coil is so tight now, I know once it snaps I will feel it throughout my whole body.

Slapping one of my hands on the back of the front seat and the other on the ceiling of the vehicle, I close my eyes and see stars as the most intense orgasm I have ever felt ripples through me. The moan I let out sounds more pornographic than I had ever heard come from me. Although I feel like a puddle of flesh and bones, I keep working to get Dean to his climax. It doesn't take long before he is grunting as his release coats my insides once again.

"Wow!" is all that is said as I lay my head on his chest and listen to his breathing and heartbeat try to return to normal. After re-dressing, Dean and I walk hand in hand back through the salvage yard. When we approach his beloved Impala, he takes a breath and slowly lets it out. Grabbing his bicep with my free hand, I say "Ain't nothing we can't fix." He looks at me, smiles and gives me a chaste kiss on the lips. "Damn straight sweetheart!"

~~Two weeks later~~

It's a warm sunny morning and Dean and I are hard at work trying to get the last few parts of Baby together. She's finally back to looking like herself again. I can sense Dean's mood change for the better every day we get closer to having her back on the road. After the final crank of the last lug nut, I let out a sigh. "Babe, that's it," I say, standing up from my crouched position. "All four tires mounted and balanced. Now, I think it's time for a bath." Dean steps up behind me, wraps his arms around my torso. "Do you know how fucking sexy you sound when you talk like that?"

"Like what? About taking a bath? I was talking about washing the car, Dean!" I laugh as I turn to face him. I lean up and kiss I quickly. He lowers his forehead to mine and says, "No. You talking mechanic talk. It turns me on." Rolling my eyes, I wriggle out of his hold and grab the sponge, bucket and soap and walk to the sink in the shop. "Let's get her cleaned up so we can get cleaned up and then we'll take her for a spin, how's that sound?"

"Like Heaven," he replies as he begins spraying the black automobile with the water hose.

Baby was shining in the late afternoon sunlight. The new paint job glimmers and the chrome sparkles. Dean and I, on the other hand, were both soaked to the core thanks to an impromptu water fight. As we're putting the supplies and tools away, Sam walks out to us with his laptop.

"Guys, I think I found something," he begins. "Red Lodge, Montana. Over a dozen cattle mutilations and two deaths within a week. Heads chopped off. Sound like our kind of thing?"

"Actually, yea it does. Let us get cleaned up and we'll head out. Give us..," Dean says, looking at me questioning. "..an hour?" I nod my head and finishing loading up the tools.

"Whoo! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?"

"You know, if you two wanna get a room, just let me know, Dean," Sam jokes. "Oh, don't listen to him, baby. He doesn't understand us." Dean says as he rubs the dash. "Should I be jealous?" I ask, joining Sam in mocking Dean's obsession with the car. "I feel like I should be jealous."

"No comments from the peanut gallery," Dean says as he catches my eyes in the rearview mirror and winks. "You're in a good mood."

"Why shouldn't I be?" Dean questions his brother.

"No reason."

"Got my car, got a case, my hot girlfriend with me, things are looking up." His comment makes me blush. Even after having sex with him almost nightly for the last two weeks, I still am amazed that he thinks of me that way. "Wow. Your relationship is weird. Give you two a couple of severed heads and a pile of dead cows and you're Mister and Missus Sunshine."

I lean up, wrap my arms around Dean's shoulders, look over at Sam and ask, "Jealous Sammy?"

"It's Sam," he says, giving me a bitchface. Dean kisses my arm and laughs. "How far to Red Lodge?"

"Uh, about another three hundred miles."

"Good," Dean says as he floors it. I sit back and smile, watching my boyfriend enjoy being behind the wheel of his treasured car once again.

Dean and I go to talk to the sheriff working the case while Sam is working on a way to procure access to the morgue. The sheriff welcomes us but insists he is a on a time scrunch and would only be able to give us just a few answers. "The murder investigation is ongoing, and that's all I can share with the press at this time."

"Sure, sure, we understand that, but just for the record, you found the first, uh, head last week, correct?" I ask him sweetly, hoping to get him to open up to us."Mm-hmm." So far my tactic isn't working.

"Okay, and the other, a uh, Christina Flanigan?" Dean asks, sensing that this sheriff is going to be hard to crack. "That was two days ago. Is there.." he is interrupted when a young woman knocks on the door and points at her watch. "Oh. Sorry, time's up, we done here?"

"One last question.." I speak up as he goes to stand. "Yeah, what about the cattle?" Dean asks, getting straight to the point. "Excuse me?" the sheriff asks, bewildered. "You know, the cows found dead, split open, drained ... over a dozen cases."

"What about them?"

"So you don't think there's a connection?"

"Connection ... with...?" the sheriff asks us, confused.

"First cattle mutilations, now two murders? Kinda sounds like ritual stuff. You know, like satanic cult ritual stuff?"

"You - you're not kidding," the sheriff laughs at us.

"No," I say, getting a bit agitated.

"Those cows weren't being mutilated! There's no such thing as cattle mutilation. Cow drops, leave it in the sun, within forty eight hours the bloat will split it open so clean it's just about surgical. The bodily fluids fall down into the ground and get soaked up because that's what gravity does. But, hey, it could be Satan. What newspaper did you say you work for?"

"World Weekly News…" I say trying to sound confident.

"Weekly World News," Dean corrects me

"World." I look over at Dean and then back to the sheriff. "Weekly... I'm new." I smile at him meekly.

"Get out of my office."

As we walk out I hear the sheriff mumble, "Satanic rituals, yea right."

Stepping out of the station, Dean's phone rings and he holds it up so I can see that Sam is calling.

"Whatcha got, Sammy?"

"Dude, you owe me! I thought I was going to be sick."

"Yea, but, did you find anything?"

"Retractable set of vampire fangs. Almost missed it. Just a small hole in the gumline."

"You gotta be kidding me," Dean sighs and then hold his phone away from his head to tell me what Sam found. "Well, this changes things," I say. "Ya think?" Dean snarks but then changes his tone when he realizes who he just snapped at. I know it's only because he hates fighting vamps almost as much as he hates witches. He looks over at me with his version of puppy dog eyes and mouths, 'Sorry." I smile at him to let him know it's okay.

"Okay. Well, meet us back at the motel. We'll plan our next move," Dean says into the phone. As we get into the car, Dean once again tries to apologize for his comment. "Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I just hate vamps." I touch my palm to his cheek. "I know. It's okay. Now let go plan our attack!" As much as I have enjoyed the time off and the chance to be with Dean, I was oddly looking forward to whipping ass again. Names not required.

After discussing more of what Sam found at the morgue and what little-to-no information the sheriff had given us, we decide to go to the nearby bar and chat up the locals. Approaching the bar, Dean orders, "Three beers, please." He hands one to me and picks his up and takes a drink.

I appraise the patrons while the guys chat up the bartender. I notice one man sitting off to himself, seemingly curious to our presence. He is eyeballing Sam and Dean and sneaking glances toward me. I pretend I don't notice and continue my gaze across the rest of the floor. I turn my attention back to the conversation as I hear, "Baker farm got leased couple months back. Real winners. Been in here a lot. Noisy. Had to 86 them once or twice"  
"Thanks, man." Dean says, as he sit his half-finished drink on the bar. Sam and I follow suit. As we are leaving, I notice the once-interested loner is no longer there, just a smoldering cigarette in the ashtray. 'Intriguing,' I think to myself.

When we step out of the bar into the night, I feel a weird sensation surge through me. Like someone or something is watching us. Looking around, I see nothing out of the ordinary but the 'being hunted like prey' vibe doesn't leave me. Reaching out, I grab Dean's arm and he turns to look at me. He can see the uneasiness in my face. "Dean, I think we're being watched," I whisper.

"I know, I feel it too. Come on, follow me," he says to me and Sam.

Turning down a dim lit alley, we pick up speed to try to get as far in as we can. There are a couple of door frames at the opposite end that we head for to hide and watch for our pursuer. Dean pulls me into one with him and we huddle as far into the recess as we can. Sam chooses the next one to hide in. Soon we hear footfalls coming down the alley and as they near where we are hidden, the boys jump out and subdue our stalker.

Pinning him to the wall with a knife to his throat, I hear Dean tell him to smile. Apparently this causes the man confusion because he dumbly asks, "What?" I step out of my hiding spot and realize that it is the man I observed in the bar. The one who had seemed so interested in us.

"Show us your pearly whites," I demand.

"Oh, for the love of-you want to stick that thing someplace else. I'm not a vampire. Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there."

"What do you know about vampires?" Sam asks the stranger suspiciously.

"How to kill them. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch," he says concentrating on Dean. Dean cocks his head and begins to let the man pull away but Sam steps in and pins him against the wall harder. "Whoa. Easy there, Chachi." The man slowly brings his hand up and pulls out his lip. "See? Fangless. Happy?"

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asks as he lets the man go.

We find out his name is Gordon Walker and he has been in the area for two weeks. He tells us that the Baker Farm the bartender mentioned is just a bunch of hippie freaks. We walk with him to his car and he's telling the guys that the nest is something he's been tracking for a year after killing one of them in Austin. The boys, of course offer to help, but he turns it down claiming to be a lone wolf and tells us he'll buy us all a drink next time we meet up before he gets in his car and drives off.

Since Gordon waived off our help and tried to entice us with a fake Chupacabra hunt, Dean decides to trail him. We watch from afar as Gordon arrives and enters a work mill. Once he is out of sight, we quickly, but quietly exit the car and approach the building.

Inside we find Gordon being held down by a vampire near an operating electric saw. The vamp is close to using the saw to decapitate Gordon when I get his attention by screaming. Yes, I am a female and I will use my feminine ways and pretend not to be a badass when the need arises. The vampire looks toward the noise long enough for Sam to rescue Gordon and Dean to use the distraction to pin the vampire under the electric saw and cut his head off, making a giant mess of not only himself but the whole area.

"So, I guess I owe you that drink now," Gordon says. Sam, Dean and I are all standing there stunned at the events that just took place. Sam and Dean walk away and I turn to follow them when Gordon asks, "So, are you with the Winchesters or are you WITH the Winchesters? Like do they share you? Dean gets you one night and Sam the next?" I look at him disgustedly and go to follow the boys back to the Impala. "What? It was an honest question?" Gordon yells after me, laughing.

Sitting in the bar from earlier where I had first spied Gordon, I watch as he holds up his end of the deal and pays for our drinks when Dean goes for his wallet. "No, no, I got it. Told you I'd buy you all a drink and since you saved my life and all, it's the least I can do." He hands some money to the waitress as she sits down the drinks. "There ya go, sweetie," he says charmingly. Gordon raises his shot glass toward us and says, "Another one bites the dust."

A few minutes later, Sam is sitting there, arms folded looking bored and I'm watching the crowd, not listening to the conversation at our table until Dean says my name. "You ok, Nic?"

"Yea, I'm fine. Just a little tired. Think I'm gonna head back to the motel."

"You sure?" Dean asks, concerned.

"Yea Nicki. Don't be a debbie downer."

"My name is Nicole, Nic for short. Not Nicki," I snap at Gordon. Ever since his little barb back at the mill, the man has gotten on my last nerve. "Okay. No offense meant. We're just celebrating a little. Job well done," Gordon says, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Come on, Nic. I'll walk back with you. Decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, either."

Dean watches his brother and his girlfriend leave the bar together and Gordon notices so he takes a jab to see if he can get a reaction from his new friend. "Hope those two don't have too much fun at the motel."

"Nah, knowing them, they'll be searching for our next case," Dean says, totally oblivious to the innuendo or Gordon's stare.

Once back at the motel, Sam and I discuss our mutual dislike of Gordon. "I don't know Nic. Something about him just rubs me the wrong way."

"I know Sam. He even insinuated that I was…." I begin but decide not to tell him what Gordon had said to me. It wasn't worth it. "You know what, never mind. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of getting into my head. But, Sam, I don't think Gordon is a good man."

"I'm gonna call Ellen and see if he's ever been by her place. Maybe she knows something."

"Oh goody. Yea, maybe Jo knows him really well," I mumble under my breath.

Sam calls Ellen and asks about Gordon. Ellen tells Sam that she knows Gordon and when Sam tells her that we were kinda working a case with him, she begs Sam for us to cut all ties with him, but doesn't give anymore information on the matter. Suddenly there is a noise outside our door so Sam gets off the phone and we go to check it out. As soon as we both get to the exterior of our room, I feel something hit me on the back of the head and I see Sam go down right before everything turns black.


	15. Surprise

When I wake up, it doesn't take me long to realize I am bound to a chair and gagged. I look to my right and find Sam in the same predicament. I try tugging at the ties, but they don't budge. Just as I'm about to use my strength to break free, I stop and look up as I hear someone-no, something-walk into the room. It's the bartender the guys has chatted up earlier. The one who had informed us of the so-called hippies out at Baker's farm. I wonder if that's where we are now.

When Eli opens his mouth and gives us a glimpse of his fangs, I resign to that thought.

A skinny brunette woman appears in the doorway. "Wait! Step back, Eli."

Eli pulls back, his fangs retracting. The woman walks over and pulls off our gags. "My name's Lenore. I'm not going to hurt you. We just need to talk."

"Talk? Yeah, okay," I say, watching the other vampire, Eli, closely. "He won't hurt you either. You have my word," she tries to reassure us. "Your word? Oh yeah, great, thanks. Listen lady, no offense but you're not the first vampire we've met," Sam says.

"We're not like the others. We don't kill humans, and we don't drink their blood. We haven't for a long time," Lenore explains. "What is this, some kind of joke?" I ask, not believing her for a second. "Notice you're still alive," she smirks at me. Trying to calm the tension in the room, Sam decides to pretend to believe her. "Okay, uh, correct me if I'm wrong here, but shouldn't you be starving to death?"

"We've found other ways. Cattle blood. It's not ideal, in fact it's disgusting. But - it allows us to get by."

"You're telling me you're responsible for all the..." I say, her story starting to make sense.

"Okay, uh, why?" Sam asks. I can see he is wanting to believe her, but just not quite there, yet.

"Survival. No deaths, no missing locals, no reason for people like you to come looking for people like us. We blend in. Our kind is practically extinct. Turns out we weren't quite as high up the food chain as we imagined," Lenore tries to explain to us.

The sensibility of her tale does bring up points we hadn't taken into consideration. There have been a higher number of cattle deaths than human. And the human head Sam had examined did have fangs, but they weren't decapitating their own. Now, the question was, is there even really a case here? These vampires had learned how to live among the human race without much notice. But, someone was chopping heads in town. Two in one week. Yep, something was up here. Lenore proceeds to tell us she just wants their kind, animal blood-draining vamps, to be taken off the hunters' radar. She then tells is she is letting us go and orders Eli takes is back to the motel. A sack is shoved over my head, my binds are loosened and I am led into a vehicle.

Back at the motel, Sam and I are shoved out of the truck after the sacks are removed. We walk to our room and open the door to find Dean and Gordon."Where you been?" Dean, asks, coming over and pulling me into a hug.

"Can we talk to you alone?" Dean turns to Gordon. "You mind chillin' out for a couple minutes?"

Dean follows us into the parking lot, grabbing my hand and lacing his fingers through mine. "You okay?" He asks me and I nod."Dean, maybe we've got to rethink this hunt," Sam tells his brother. "What are you talking about? Where were you?"

"In the nest," I tell him.

Dean looks at me amazed. "You found it?"

"They found us, man."

"How'd you get out? How many'd you kill?"

"None."

"Well Sam, they didn't just let you two go."

"That's exactly what they did, babe!" I tell him.

"Maybe we shouldn't go after them."

"Why not? What part of 'vampires' don't you understand, Sam? If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job. "

"I don't think they're like other vampires. I don't think they're killing people," I try to explain to my boyfriend. "You're joking. Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are."

"The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood."

"And you believed them?"

"Look at us, Dean. They let us go without a scratch. "

"Wait, so you're saying... No, man, no way. I don't know why they let you go. I don't really care. We find 'em, we waste 'em."

"No, Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren't killing people, they're not evil!" I beg Dean, trying to get him to understand our side. Sam and Dean proceed to argue over the case and Gordon. Sam accuses Dean of using Gordon as a replacement for their father, which earns Sam a punch. "Guys, where's Gordon?" I ask noticing the motel room empty during their squabble.

"Probably gone after the nest," Dean says.

"Dean, we have to stop him!" Sam pleads.

"Really, Sam? Because I say we lend a hand. "

"Just give us the benefit of the doubt, would you?" Sam, says motioning between him and me.

"Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive. Give me the keys."

I point to the table where I'd seen them earlier. "He snaked the keys."

Dean has to hotwire Baby and is grumbling.

"I can't believe this. I just fixed her up, too." I let his faux-pas go, not wanting to start another argument. Thankfully Sam had paid more attention to the trip back than I had because he more or less told Dean exactly where to go to get to where we had been held. We get to the farm and rush inside to find Gordon standing over a poisoned Lenore.

"Sam, Dean, Nic. Come on in. The fun's just getting started. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help? Grab a knife. I was just about to start in on the fingers."

"Look, man..." Dean says, astonished at his new "friend."

Gordon drags the knife across her arm; veins trace away from the cut. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, let's all just chill out, huh?" Dean says, stepping toward Gordon with his arms out, palms toward him. "I'm completely chill."

"Gordon, put the knife down."

Sam steps towards Gordon, but Dean stops him with a hand on his chest.

"Sounds like it's Sam here needs to chill."

"Just step away from her, all right?"

"You're right. I'm fucking wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk. Might as well put her out of her misery," He pulls out a larger knife. "I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane."

Gordon turns towards Lenore, but I step in to block him.

"Gordon, I'm letting her go," I tell him as I reach for her.

Gordon points the knife at my chest, stopping me in my tracks.

"You're not doing a damn thing."

"Hey, hey, hey, Gordon, let's talk about this. That's my girlfriend you're holding at knifepoint, Dean says, pulling his gun out and pointing it at Gordon. "You really don't want to do that, if you know what's good for you."

"Oh, really?" Gordon asks with a chuckle. "What's this pretty little thing going to do to me, huh? She got both your heads so screwed that you think she is invincible or something. Man, the sex must be banging! So, tell me this honey," Gordon says directing his attention back to me, whispering, "Do they share their plaything?"

At this point, I've had enough. Sam has rescued Lenore while Dean and I distracted Gordon. I can feel my strength building up. I haul back and land a punch right on Gordon's jaw, knocking him to the floor. Dean jumps in and grabs Gordon and ties him to the chair Lenore had previously occupied.

"What are you doing, man? You doing this for a fang? Come on, Dean, we're on the same side here. Or is it for the whore you share with your brother?" Gordon taunts, looking toward me.

"You sadistic bastard!" He hits Gordon, knocking him in his chair to the floor. Gordon looks at him up at us. "Get comfy. We'll call someone in two or three days, have them come out, untie you," Dean says as Sam,walks back in. "Lenore get out okay?" I ask, genuinely concerned for the vamp-not-vamp. "Yeah. All of 'em did," Sam answers. "So, what'd I miss?" He asks, seeing Gordon secured to the chair.

"Oh, him running his mouth trying to piss us off. Asking, or accusing," I correct myself. "Accusing me of sleeping with both of you."

"Perverted son of a bitch," Dean exclaims as he jams Gordon's knife into a table beside him.

"We ready to go?"

"One sec," I say as I walk over to Gordon who is still bound to the chair and lying on his side on the floor. Swinging my leg back, I forcefully kick him in the groin. "Okay. I'm good now. We can go."

"That's my girlfriend!" Dean exclaims as we walk out of the farmhouse, his arm slung over my shoulders. Outside, Dean gives Sam a free shot at hitting him for not believing us about the vampires. "Clock me one, Sam," Dean says, sterling himself for the hit. "What?" Sam asks with a chuckle as he looks at me. I just lift my shoulders. I don't know what Dean's talking about either.

"Come on. I won't even hit you back. Let's go."

"No."

"Let's go, you get a freebie. Hit me, come on."

"You look like you just went twelve rounds with a block of cement, Dean. I'll take a raincheck."

"I wish we never took this job. It's jacked everything up."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives."

"Okay," Sam says, imploring Dean to go on.

"What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us..."

"Dean, after what happened to Mom, Dad did the best he could."

"I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things; and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill I didn't even think about it; hell, I even enjoyed it."

"But, baby, you didn't kill Lenore," I walk up to him, laying my hands on his chest and looking up at him. "No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill 'em all."

"Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters," I tiptoe and give his a quick kiss.

We all get in the Impala and head to the motel. None of us can wait to get out of this town and back to some normalcy, chasing and neutralizing evil.


	16. Shocking Revelations Part 1

Sam walks toward Mary's headstone while Dean and I wander around. I know Dean doesn't want to go near Mary's resting place so I try to keep him distracted. "Hey, let's see if we can find the oldest grave here," I suggest. I grab his hand and pull him toward the rows of headstones that look forlorn and unkempt. Sites like those usually meant it's been a while since anyone visited them.

"Nic, I know what you're doing," Dean complains as I begin reading the individual markers.

"Look, born 1903, died 1954, William Louis Garver. Nellie Sue Garver, born 1905, died 1932. Baby girl Garver died 1932. Awe, she died giving birth," I say looking at Dean who just rolls his eyes. "You don't think that's sad, Dean? Just think they married young, she got pregnant. They were all excited and then not only does he lose his wife but his baby too. And then he-," I continue while looking at the tombstone and calculating in my head. "-had to live with that for 22 more years."

"Yea, sad," Dean says, no emotion in his voice. I continue walking, reading more of the markers to myself. Suddenly Dean stops, which causes me to stop and look over at him. He's staring at an oddly shaped tree that looks barren of life. Even though it is the fall of the year the trees still haven't lost all their leaves so for this tree to be devoid of any type of foliage is unusual. We make our way over to it, it alluring our curiosity. Dean lets go of my hand and circles it, reaching out and knocking on its trunk. Looking around I notice a recent burial that is covered with pallid flowers.

"Babe, look at this," I say, getting Dean's attention. Squatting down, I run my fingers along the deadened petals. I feel him walk up beside me and I see him mirroring me. He reaches out and touches the perished bouquet. Standing back up, I look around and realize that there is a perfect circle of lifeless grass around the area. I get a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Dean." He's up beside me then and notices the same thing.

After talking to the caretaker, we learn that it is the site of a local college student who was buried three days ago, Angela Mason. Dean asks about the upkeep of the grounds and finds out that no type of chemicals are used in maintenance and there is no explanation to why the vegetation has been ruined. The caretaker hands Dean the information of the deceased's next of kin and we thank him before taking off to find Sam.

All three of us walk toward the Impala as we regale our findings to Sam. "Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide?" Sam suggests. "No, we asked. No chemicals are used," I answer him. "Okay," Sam says hesitantly. "What are we thinking?"

"I dunno. Unholy ground, maybe?" Dean asks. Sam stops in his tracks. "Un-?"

"What," Dean says turning to his brother. "If something evil happened here it could easily poison the ground. Remember Cedar Rapids."

"Could be sign of demonic possession," I suggest to them. "Or Angela's spirit, if it's powerful enough."

Sam nods but turns away from us.

"Well don't get too excited. You might pull something," Dean speaks.

"It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?"

"So?" We continue walking toward the car.

"So - are you sure this is about a hunt, and not about something else?"

"What else would it be about?"

Sam sighs, shakes his head, and reaches for the door handle. "You know, just forget about it."

"You believe what you want, Sam, but - I let you drag my ass out here, the least we could do is check this out."

"Yeah. Fine."

Dean walks around to get into the driver's seat as Sam and I move to get into our side.

"Girl's dad works in town. He's a professor at the school."

"Then let's go talk to him," I reply from the backseat.

We find the office of Angela's father easily and knock on the door. An older, balder gentleman answers. "Yes?"

"Dr. Mason?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Sam. This is Dean and Nicole. We were friends of Angela's. We ... we wanted to offer our condolences." I smile sadly at him when I catch the hitch in his breathing at his daughter's name. "Please, come in." We enter and he closes the door behind us. Sam and I sit down on the couch in his office while Dean starts examining the bookshelf in the corner. He pulls up a book from the table and shows us a photo album. Looking through the various pictures of the young brunette, I tell her father, "She was beautiful."

"Yes, she was." he agrees.

"This is an unusual book," Dean says, motioning to a book he has been leafing through. He shows the cover of the book he's been paging through; it has carvings of Greek letters and a triangular symbol.

"It's ancient Greek; I teach a course."

"So a car accident, that's, that's horrible!" Sam declares, trying to steer the conversation back to the phone album. "Angie was only a mile away from home when, uh..." Dr. Mason speaks with a break in his voice. "It's gotta be hard. Losing someone like that. Sometimes it's like they're s- still around. Almost like you can still sense their presence," I state.

Dean looks at me with concern on his face. I ignore him and get back to the task at hand. "You ever feel anything like that?"

"I do, as a matter of fact," Dr. Mason tells us.

"That's perfectly normal, Dr. Mason. Especially with what you're going through," Sam consoles.

"You know, I still phone her," her dad tells us, looking at me. "And the phone's ringing before I remember that, uh ... Family's everything, you know? Angie was the most important thing in my life. And now I, I, I'm just lost without her."

"We're very sorry," I express my sorrow by placing a hand lightly on his knee.

After wrongly accusing Dr. Mason of using his extensive intellect to bring back his daughter, our investigation leads us to Angela's friend Neil, who had actually conducted a ritual to bring back his friend, whom he was in love with. But, he not only brought back the love of his life, Angela was a vengeful spirit. Unfortunately, we didn't catch onto his act before Angela murdered her boyfriend, Matt and attacked her roommate, Lindsey. Turns out that the day Angela died she had walked in on the two of them. We confront Neil and tell him that we must put Angela back to rest by redoing the ritual at her gravesite, to lure her there.

At the cemetery, Sam gets chosen as bait while Dean and I dig to get to her coffin. Once we get her body back into the casket, Dean stabs her with a stake, pinning her in. After driving it through, her body goes limp and the dead is once again dead.

"What's dead should stay dead," Dean pants, looking wistfully up at me.

We leave the graveyard and head out of town. A little while later, Dean unexpectedly pulls off the road and gets out. He walks to the front of the Impala and sit on the hood. Sam and I look at one another, concerned. We both get out and walk to him. Sam sits beside him and I come up and stand next to him.

"Dean, what is it?"

He pauses for a moment but then speaks, "I'm sorry."

"You - For what?" Sam asks.

"The way I've been acting. And for Dad. I mean, he was your dad too. And it's my fault that he's gone."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, feeling uneasy. He looks at me and timidly smiles then looks at his brother. "Sammy, I know you've been thinking it - so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone. " I grab his hand and squeeze it. I don't like the way he is talking. "Dean," Sam says, trying to stop the self-deprecating speech coming from the older Winchester. "You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know."

"We don't know that. Not for sure," I tell him, trying to comfort him. Dean starts crying and it's breaking my heart. "You and Dad ... you were the most important people in my life. And now, I got you, Nic..." he says, looking at me and then back to his brother. "I never should've come back, Sam. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it." Sam nods as tears start streaming down my face. "So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that all right?"

Dean looks at Sam; Sam looks away and Dean looks at me and then stands up and walks toward the back of the car. I follow him and pull him into a hug as he continues to cry. I can't stand it. I can't stand to see this selfless, tough-as-nails hunter uncertain and fragile. So, I say the only thing I know to say.

"I love you, Dean Winchester," I whisper into his neck.

A few days later finds me and the brothers on the road again stopping for gas and snacks. While Dean is filling Baby up, Sam and I go into the store to get snacks and drinks. Sam abruptly leaves me and rushes to the restroom. I pick out what I want and go to the cashier to pay with the credit card Dean had handed me. I leave the store and head to the Impala. Dean snakes the bag from my hand. "Did you remember pie?"

"Of course I remembered pie baby," I laugh. My boy and his pie.

"Where's Sammy?"

"He took off to the bathroom," I say and then eye Dean suspiciously when a thought crosses my mine. "You didn't 'enhance' his drink earlier did you?"

"What? No!" Dean looks a bit surprised at my accusation. I believe him because Dean Winchester is not that good of an actor.

"I'll go get him," he says as I slide into my seat.

 **A few hours later**

"Dean, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where," Sam explains. Sam had had another vision while we were shopping earlier and he had gotten a pretty good description of a bus line emblem. He knew searching for it would help determine what to do. The only problem was we were going to have to go to the Roadhouse. The one place I never wanted to set foot in again.

"Yeah, man, but..." Dean tries to dissuade his brother, sensing that I am are agitated and edgy about going back there. "I just don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea," he says, our eyes meeting in the rear-view mirror. "It could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do."

"That's my point. There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if, if, if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a, a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?" Dean offers a different explanation, realizing Sam isn't catching on to my discomfort. I lean up onto the back of the front seat, between the two. "Dean, it's okay. If it'll help Sam, I can handle it. I'll just avoid her while we're there."

Sam finally catches on and turns to look at me. "God, Nic. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking about Jo being there. I just know I need to talk to Ash." He smiles back at me. "Hey maybe she won't be there. Maybe she's gone back to school or something." I return his smile and settle back into my spot. 'If only that were true,' I think to returns to his earlier conversation with his brother, "So I'm a freak now?" Dean laughs and slaps Sam on the thigh. "You've always been a freak." Dean smiles at his brother and turns his attention back to the road.

Harvelle's Roadhouse is somewhat crowded. Few of the tables are occupied, as are the stools at the bar. Walking in the door, I grab Dean's hand as I see _her_ standing in the middle of the floor. Jo walks right up to us, smiling deviously.

"Just can't stay away, huh?"

"Yeah, whatever." Dean replies, looking around the bar.

"Where's Ash?" Sam asks, hurriedly.

"In his back room."

"Great," Sam utters, pushing past her.

"And I'm fine...," Jo yells after him.

"Who cares!" I say as I follow Sam and Dean toward Ash's room.

Once we get Ash, who had answered his door in the buff and causing Dean to put his hand over my eyes, dressed and into a semi-private area of the bar, Sam tells him of his vision and asks him to look up the bus line. "It's a Blue Ridge bus line in Guthrie, Oklahoma," Ash tells us.

"Okay. Do me a favor - check Guthrie for any demonic signs, or omens, or anything like that."

"You think the demon's there?" Ash questions.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Why would you think that?"

"Just check it, all right?" Dean demands.

Ash presses some keys on his computer and then says, "No, sir, nothing. No demon."

"All right, try something else for me. Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, night of the kid's six month birthday," Sam requests.

As the guys explain to Ash what they are needing him to check for, I glance around and notice Jo cleaning a table nearby staring intently at Dean. When she realizes I see her, she quickly turns and wipes the table off behind her. I decide then, I'm going to show her just how close Dean and I are.

"Okay, now that is just weird, man. Why the hell would I be looking for that," Ash inquires, taken aback at the pulls out a beer bottle and sets it next to the laptop. "'Cause there's a PBR in it for ya."

"Give me fifteen minutes," Ash answers, typing furiously on his computer.

Sam and Dean walk to the bar and grab two of the three vacant seats that are close. Instead of sitting on mine, I stand behind Dean wrapping my arms around his chest. "Um, Nic, not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing?" he asks me over his shoulder.

"Nothing," I reply, trying to sound innocent. Just then Jo walks by and Dean chuckles, catching on to my spontaneous display of affection. Patting my hand that's on his chest, he reaches round and pulls me to him, laying his arm across my shoulders and kissing my temple. "Let it go, babe. You have me," he whispers and it makes me realize that I have dropped down to the level of jealous high school drama shit. So, instead I just stand there, relishing in the fact that his arm is around me. I do actually 'have him'.

Minutes later, music fills the air of the bar and I immediately recognize the tune and begin humming along with the chords. "REO? Really? Who played this shit?" Dean asks, turning to see Jo walking away from the jukebox."Damn right REO. Kevin Cronin sings it from the heart," I scoff at my boyfriend. "They're classic!"

"He sings it from the hair. There's a difference," Dean laughs. "This ain't classic. Zeppelin is classic. Seger is classic."

"Oh, pssh. Come dance with me Dean," I beg, pulling on his arm.

"I don't dance, sweetheart. Anyways, there isn't a dance floor."

I finally get him off the stool and wrap my arms around his neck, slowly swaying my hips. "You can dance anywhere, Dean." He grabs my waist, laying his hands on each side and begins to sway with me. Pulling me closer he encases me in his arms and I softly sing in his ear.

 _ **What started out as friendship,**_

 _ **Has grown stronger.**_

 _ **I only wish I had the strength to let it show.**_

 _ **I tell myself that I can't hold out forever.**_

 _ **I said there is no reason for my fear.**_

 _ **Cause I feel so secure when we're together.**_

 _ **You give my life direction,**_

 _ **You make everything so clear…**_

Sam rushes up to us, "We have a match. We've gotta go."

Dean takes my hand and we follow Sam out of the Roadhouse. I go to grab the handle of the back door and Sam stops me. "Nic, ride up front."

"Sam," I say, looking up at him flabbergasted. "You can't fit back there. Your legs are too long."

"I can if I sit sideways. Look, I feel bad for interrupting your dance. Just get up there."

"Are we going or not?" Dean yells from the driver's seat. I trade places with Sam and slide in beside Dean, who looks surprised but happy to see me. A couple hours pass and we are still on the road. Night has fallen and I have slowly shifted to the middle of the bench seat, sitting next to Dean. I begin humming the song we were dancing to and it turns into an off-key, acapella duet.

" _ **And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight**_

 _ **You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter night**_

 _ **And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might...**_ "

"You're kidding, right?" Sam speaks up from the back seat.

"Hey, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole! That applies to the back seat too!" Dean states, earning a groan from his brother. I turn and look at Sam. "So, whaddya got?

Sam looks at a stack of papers on his lap.

"Andrew Gallagher. Born in eighty three, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like me."

"You think the demon killed his mom too?" Dean inquires. "Sure looks like it," Sam answers, looking at more papers. "How did you even know to look for this guy?" I ask, reaching back so Sam can hand me some of them to skim over. "Every premonition I've had, if they're not about the demon they're about the other kids the demon visited. Like Max Miller, remember him?" Sam asks his brother.

"Yeah, but Max Miller was a pasty little psycho," Dean comments, taking his eyes off the road long enough to look at me. "He used his abilities to murder abusive family members."

"Well, I can understand that," I say. "I'd love to be able to retaliate against my abuser."

Dean looks at me and rests his hand on my knee, lightly squeezing it.

"The point is he was killing people. And I was having the same type of visions about him. And now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy."

"How do we find him?"

"Don't know. No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills - phone, credit, utilities..."

I cut Sam off, holding up a sheet of paper, "There's a work address from his last W-2, about a year ago."

"Let's start there," Dean confirms, pushing the gas pedal to speed up.


	17. Shocking Revelations Part 2

The only information we got at the coffee shop where Andy had been employed is what the vehicle he drives looks like, so the boys and I drive around town looking for a van with a barbarian queen riding a polar bear painted on the side. We find it parked on Orchard Street, just like we were told.

"That van is sweet," Dean says. "I'm starting to like this dude."

Sam throws a perfect bitchface his brother's way, prompting Dean to ask him what's wrong.

"This Andrew Gallagher, he's the second guy like this we've found, Dean. Demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people. "

"We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, all right? He could be innocent. "

"My visions haven't been wrong yet," Sam replies.

"What's your point?" Dean asks his brother

"My point is, I'm one of them."

"No, you're not," Dean retorts

"Dean, the demon said he had plans for me and children like me."

"Yeah? And?"

"And yeah, maybe this is his plan, maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks, maybe we're all supposed to be-"

"What, killers?" Dean implores, astonished at his brother's thoughts.

"Yeah."

"So the demon wants you out there killing with your minds, is that it? Come on, give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones."

"No? Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things."

"Those things were asking for it. There's a difference," Dean clarifies, clearly done with the whole conversation. "Guys, there he is," I interrupt them, seeing Andy exiting a building, wearing pajamas and a long satin robe embroidered with dragons. "That's our killer?" I am dumbfounded that this dude could be our killer.

Sam suddenly sees the man from his vision so we let him out to follow him while we tail Andy. The van suddenly stops in the middle of the street and Andy walks back to the Impala. Dean grabs his pistol and lays it in his lap, concealed by his jacket. I reach down and grab the knife I had hidden under the seat as we watch Andy lean down to talk to us.

"Hey," Andy greets us.

"Hey... hey," Dean and I say almost simultaneously.

"This is a cheery ride" Andy declares, giving a longing gaze to the outside of the car.

"Yeah, thanks," Dean agrees

"Man, the '67? Impala's best year if you ask me. This is a serious classic!" Andy exclaims and I can see Dean's chest puff up in pride.

"Yeah. You know, we just rebuilt her, too."

"Yeah?" Andy asks, glancing over at me.

"Yeah, can't let a car like this one go," I tell him. I can see that he isn't too sure about my presence. "Damn straight!" He proclaims, nodding toward me before looking back at Dean. "Hey. Can I have it?"

"Sure, man," Dean says opening the door and exiting the car. I slide over and get out the passenger side. As Andy drives away in Dean's beloved Baby, I look over at him, "Uh, Dean what just happened?"

"God dammit! He just Obi-wanned us, Nic!"

Sam calls as we are walking back toward the center of town where we had previously dropped him off. "Dean! Andy's got the Impala!" I can hear him through the phone.

"We know," Dean replies, downhearted. "He just sorta asked me for it and I...I let him take it."

"You what? Where's Nic?"

"I'm here, Sam," I speak loud enough for him to hear me through the phone. Dean continues explaining what happened. "It's mind control, man!"

As Dean and I walked up to where Sam said he'd meet us, we are faced with a very grim sight. Lights blink as we watch paramedics put a body bag into the back of an ambulance and pull away. We see Sam sitting on the curb and rush over to him. Dean crouches down and puts a hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

"I kept him out of the gun store. I thought he was okay. I thought he was past it, at least... I should have stayed with him."

After the police leave the scene and the crowd begins to dissipate, the three of us walk down the street back toward the coffee shop we had visited just an hour ago. Sitting in the street is the Impala. Dean lets go of my hand and takes off. "Oh, thank god! I'm sorry, Baby. I'll never leave you again," Dean talks to the car, relief evident in his voice. "Well, at least he left the keys in it," I state, looking into the window. "Yeah, Real Samaritan, this guy," Sam huffs, sarcastically.

Getting into the car, we begin discussing the case. "Well, it looks like he can't work his mojo just by twitching his nose, he's gotta use verbal commands," Dean says. "The doctor had just gotten off his cell phone when he stepped in front of that bus. Andy must have called him or something," Sam explains. "I don't know, maybe." Dean doesn't seem to sure. "Beg your pardon?" Sam asks incredulously.

"I just don't know if he's our guy, Sam."

"Dean, you had O.J. convicted before he got out of his white Bronco and you have doubts about this?"

"He just doesn't seem like the stone-cold killer type, that's all. You know. And O.J. was guilty."

"Either way, how are we going to track this guy down?"

"We could always go check out his van," I suggest.

"Good idea babe," Dean announces as he winks at me

The back of his van looks like some sort of hippie refuge with its disco ball, fur rugs, a tiger painted on the wall, several thick books, even an enormous bong.

"Not exactly a serial killer's lair," I say looking around the interior of the vehicle. "There's no... clown paintings on the walls, or scissors stuck in victims' photos. Ooh, I like that tiger."

Dean chuckles and looks at me, "I'll give you the tiger if I can have Moby Dick's bong."

I just shake my head at my boyfriend and continue going through Andy's belongings.

Later as we are sitting in the car, eating our mini-mart specials, Dean speaks up, "Ugh. You know, one day I'd love to just sit down and eat something you've cooked for us, Nic. Something homemade and not out of a microwave."

"Soon as we get to Bobby's I'll make you a big pot of spaghetti and even a pie," I promise him as I continue chowing down on my hot dog. We go back to the discussion of whether or not Andy had anything to do with the murder Sam witnessed, both in his vision and first-hand, when Andy appears at Sam's window.

"Hey! You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?"

Sam calmly starts telling Andy the same spiel we told his co-workers. "Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed aw-"

"Tell the truth!" Andy demands.

"We hunt demons," Dean confesses abruptly.

"What?" Andy looks stunned.

"Dean!" Sam shouts, surprised that his brother so easily disclosed that information.

"Demons and spirits. Things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Sam here, he's my brother. And Nic my girlfriend," Dean continues with his confession.

"Dean, shut up!" Sam yells at his brother.

"I'm trying. He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible. And, I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right."

"This hot dog tastes like ass warmed over. Plus Sam here thinks you're a killer while Dean has been defending you. Hey, let me ask you this. How much stuff can your bong hold?" I start rambling.

"Okay, you know what?" Andy says, startled. "Just leave me alone."

"Okay," Dean and I agree.

"All right?" Andy says and walks away.

Sam gets out to go after Andy while Dean and I sit in the car, looking stunned. Dean starts laughing, "Nic, did you really ask him about his bong?" I just shrug and giggle.

We watch Sam and Andy have a conversation when Sam grabs his head all of a sudden and almost fall to his knees. Dean and I jump into action and rush to check on him.

Dean catches him before he hits the ground and helps him to sit. "What is it Sam?" Andy walks up to me and claims, "I didn't do anything to him."

Sam describes his vision of a woman setting herself on fire to Dean and as soon as he gets done a fire truck with sirens blaring, speeds by. Dean looks at me, silently asking me to stay with Sam and Andy. I nod and he jumps into action to follow the firetruck. Andy goes to walk away and I stand in front of him, put my hand on his chest and tell him, "No. You're staying here."

A few minutes pass when Sam's cell starts ringing. It's Dean calling to tell him that his vision had come true. A woman had doused herself in gasoline and then, using the vehicles cigarette lighter, ignited herself. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Yeah, here the whole time. Ok, we'll figure it out."

Sam ends the call and looks up at me. "She's dead. Burned up just minutes ago." He looks at Andy, almost apologetically. "You were here the whole time, didn't make any phone calls, can't be you. It's gotta be someone else. Sorry, I suspected you man."

Sam and Andy sit and discuss their abilities while I wait for Dean to return. When he gets there, he gives us the details of the death and says he had called Ash and found out the woman had given birth in 1983 on the same day Andy was born. We find out Andy had been adopted, which could've helped us out. We debate on ways to get Andy's birth certificate and information since they are sealed in the county office. Andy offers to help get us into the building.

In the records office, we quickly find the information we are looking for. Turns out the woman who torched herself was Andy's birth mother. But the big shocker is that she had given birth to twins. Andy is freaking about this new information until Dean pulls out even more surprising facts, Andy's twin is actually his co-worker, Weber. We all leave the records office and make tracks back to the coffee shop to try to talk to Weber, or Ansen Weems, as that is his given name.

I'm sitting in the back with Andy as he is telling us all he knows about his co-worker turned twin brother when Sam starts screaming and holding his head. He starts grabbing for the door handle when Dean immediately pulls off the road. Sam practically falls out of the car and Dean rushes out and around to get to him. I lean up and bend over the front seat to see if I can help.

This vision includes the woman that we had spoken to at the coffee shop that morning, which Andy informs us her name is Tracy; and Weber/Weems. Sam tells us his vision was of her jumping off a ravine which causes Andy distress.

We find the bridge and ravine from Sam's vision fairly easy. After some debate, it is settled that Sam and Andy will approach Weber/Weems car on the bridge and try to talk him down, while Dean and I sneak onto the ridge for backup.

After they leave, Dean and I make our way to a spot where we can get a good view of everything and crouch down to wait and see if Sam can accomplish his mission. Without warning, Dean tucks the barrel of his rifle under his chin, his finger dangerously close to the trigger. "Dean," I whisper-yell. "What the hell are you doing?" He seems to be in a trance as I continue trying to get through to him. Tears are blurring my vision and I hear a gunshot. I close my eyes, afraid to see that Dean has been mind controlled to shoot himself. I feel arms wrap around me and I open my eyes to see Dean, in one piece. We look toward the bridge and Andy is standing over Weber/Weems' body with a smoking gun.

Morning arrives and emergency services are on scene. We all give our statement to the cops: Weems shot himself after we accosted him trying to attack Tracy. They buy it and we turn to leave. Andy grabs my arm and I turn to look at him. "Ronald Patrickson."

"Who?" I ask Andy, puzzled. Sam and Dean come up to stand beside me as Andy says, "The guy who attacked you. His name is Ronald Patrickson. He lives in Midwest City."


	18. The Cranoxion

On the ride back to Bobby's, both boys try to engage me in conversation, but I don't respond. I just sit and watch the world outside fly by as the Impala speeds down the highway. The information that Andy bestowed upon me kept running through my head.

Ronald Patrickson lives in Midwest City.

My attacker. The man who had kidnapped and raped me when I was just 9 years old.

He was still alive. And apparently free, free to go on living a normal life. Free to just forget about the girl from whom he stole her innocence.

I also wonder if I was alone. Had he assaulted any others? Was I the only one? The more I thought about it, I realized that I was in a party of one. If there had been others, surely he would have been caught by now, but Andy had said that he lived in Midwest City. Not that he was in jail or prison.

I feel the tears run down my cheeks as soon as I see the mileage sign for Sioux Falls. Being back at Bobby's is something I am looking forward to. I hadn't given much thought about anything else. Bobby's always made me feel safe, like home. Bobby's was home. As close to home as I have ever known. I had found shelter there. I had found security there. I had found love there. True love. I had met Dean at Bobby's and we hit it off instantaneously. We had goofed, joked and flirted with one another. And all that had led me to fall in love with the eldest Winchester brother.

Three days after we return to Bobby's Sam stumbles upon a possible case nearby. A campground three hours away has reports of campers going missing. All their belongings left behind, they just vanished without a trace. So the boys and I start the mundane task of researching to find out a possible culprit. Let me rephrase that, Sam and I research while Dean complains more than doing actual research.

"Could it be a wendigo?" I ask while reading up on the monsters. "They tend to dwell in wooded areas and are known to snatch their prey and take them into caves in the forests."

"No, wendigos usually destroy personal belongings in their abductions. These campsites were left untouched," Sam explains to me, removing that prospect. "Come on guys! Let's just get out there and waste whatever it is. Work on our feet, go with our gut," Dean grumbles as I pick up another lore tomb."No, Dean," Sam insists. "We are not going in unprepared and barely making it out alive. Just quit bitching and try to find what we are after."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

After hours upon hours of research, Sam finally narrows it down to a Cranoxion. A beast that pursues couples for no apparent reason. From the description of the creature, if seen, it would just look like a bear in the woods without a closer look. The Cranoxian has reddish-brown fur, can stand on its hind quarters, but upon closer examination, they are said to have long, sharp retractable talons and is agile and quick, like a deer.

After that we learn that the only way to kill the monster is with a weapon called an obsidian knife. The blade is made out of volcanic glass that is finer than conventional steel. Thankfully Bobby has one on hand that he is going to let us use. The blade of the knife is black and has dimples and ridges in it. Its handle is made of a curved piece of planed down and sanded wood. I turn the weapon over in my hand and just study it. For a piece of glass, the knife is sturdy and very sharp.

Sam and Dean goes to the office of the campsite to interview the proprietors about the disappearances while I stay back, waiting to see what they find out. When the boys returns they tell me that the missing campers are all couples so we decide that Dean and I will use ourselves as bait while Sam stays off, out of sight to await the attack.

When we arrive the owners, Mr. and Mrs. Nordell recognizes Dean, but doesn't seem surprised that he is there to enjoy the amenities. We rent a space and travel to find Site #19. There is already a tent set up and a firepit off to the side. As I get out of the Impala, I look out over the lake that we are near and the woods behind it. It is a pretty spectacular spot.

"Too bad we didn't bring suits," I say, once again looking at the water.

"We could always go without," Dean retorts, wagging his eyebrows. I just roll my eyes and shake my head as I help unload our bags from the trunk.

Dean gathers wood and builds a fire when the sun goes down and we sit and heat hot dogs over the flames. As we sit there, enjoying the simple peace and quiet, I decide to bring up a subject I know Dean is going to be dead against.

"I wanna go to Midwest City."

Dean turns his head and looks at me and simply says, "No, Nic."

"Dean, this is my battle. I should be the one to finish it."

"I'm not letting you do it Nic. I don't want you anywhere near that son of a bitch."

"Dammit, Dean," I scream, starting to get mad. "He took ME. He raped ME. I should be the one he looks at when he realizes he didn't get away with it."

How dare Dean think I am going to just sit back and leave it alone. I have all the information right there. I now know his name, where he lives. I want to see him; does he remember? Does he regret it? It is my right. And no one, including Dean Winchester, is going to stop me.

"Nicole, just let me handle it," Dean pleads. "I'll go there and deal with it for you."

"No, Dean. I'm not letting you handle it" I say, standing up and pacing in front of the fire. It is my past, I should be the one to 'deal with it'."

"Nic," Dean says, his voice laced with anxiety. Dean moves to get up as he continues. "Nicole!" At the tone and sound of his voice, I stop in my tracks and look at him. He is looking past me, an expression on his face I can't decipher. I calmly turn to see what is behind me as Dean jumps into action beside me. Time seems to slow as I watch the Cranoxion stalk toward us, alternating its view from me to Dean and back again.

I grab the knife, tightly grasping the handle. I haven't seen or heard Dean after hearing the splash in the lake. The monster had hurled Dean through the air like a ragdoll. I watch the Cranoxion slowly circle where I'm standing, it never takes it eyes off me. I am not going to let this thing think it's going to get one over on me. I meet its stare and hold, "Come on, you ass. Come and get me!" I scream at it while it is still making its trail around me. I watch as it stops, sniffs the air and then stands up on its hind legs and huffs. I can see puffs of air coming from its nostrils as it comes back down and stamps at the ground.

When it comes at me, I slice through the air with the hand holding the knife and the creature lets out a scream. Its talons on its left paw slashing out, grabbing the sleeve of my shirt. The Cranoxion begins pulling me toward it, but I struggle against its hold. Once I am within reach of its injured arm, it takes wounded appendage and swats me, knocking me to the ground. Last thing I comprehend is the faint sound of my name being called as I succumb to the darkness surrounding me.

"The stupid thing came out of fucking nowhere, Sam!" Dean screams into his phone at his younger brother. Pacing back and forth, looking at every inch of the campsite he can see at this time of night, Dean is frantic since he can't find Nic. "Okay. I will get there as soon as I can," Sam says. "I just have to find a car to hijack. Just stay calm, and DO NOT go after it! Not until I get there."

"But it has Nic, Sammy. You want me to just leave her to fight it off?" Dean practically pleads with his brother, but knows deep down inside that Sam is right and it would do no one any good for him to go traipsing off to god knows where.

"Dean, you know Nic can handle this. You said the blade is missing so that means she's got it which means she has a better chance of fighting it off than the others. Just stay where you are and I'll be there." With that Sam hangs up and Dean pockets his phone.

By the time Sam arrives the sun is just peeking over the horizon. Dean is beside himself with worry. The Cranoxion has Nic and as soon as it got light enough to see, Dean had stumbled across blood splatters and a trail of blood leading off into the wooded area behind the campsite.

My head is pounding and I can tell that day has broke by the light shining on my eyelids. I groan and roll my neck as I casually open my eyes to see if I can tell where I am. Sitting on the bare dirt floor across from me are 4 women and 2 men. Each one of the bodies are all in different stages of decomposition. The stench of decaying flesh hangs heavy in the air. It burns my nose and causes my gag reflex to engage. Swallowing down the bile burning the back of my throat, I slowly get to my hands and knees and crawl toward the man who is the least decomposed. Reaching out I place my fingers on his neck to feel for a pulse. His skin is cold and hardened and as I apply pressure, he sluggishly falls over.

I scramble backwards and land on my butt. All six of the missing were right here with me and every single one of them dead. I feel defeated. Why couldn't we save them? How could that monster just take them, only to leave them out here in the elements to perish? I didn't understand it at all. Pushing myself up onto my feet, I decide to go back to the task of finding out exactly where the Cranoxion had taken me.

The moss on the ground was wet; from blood or rain I didn't know and wasn't sure I wanted to. On one side was a dirt wall that had the obvious signs of attempts at escape from those trapped within. The other side was a thicket of plants and bushes that would be almost impossible to navigate and get away. The shrubbery was towering, only by looking up could you see through it to the outside. I kept searching for a trail to get out of this, this lair the Cranoxion made. There were no visible entrance or trails to show how the monster had gotten us in here. The fear of actually perishing here overrode the fear of the Cranoxion coming for me as I began screaming "Help! Help me!" as loud as I could. My throat was dry and my voice hoarse as I sit down and plan my next move. Without my screams for help, it is once again quiet in the burrow. I barely hear a whisper of "It doesn't work" come from behind me. I turn and look at my companions and see a set of blue eyes staring at me.

 **~~Dean's P.O.V~~**

Sam and I follow the trail of blood past the campsite and to the edge of the trees and wilderness that lay beyond. Looking at one another, we step into the forest and my eyes have to adjust to the dimness. The leaves of the tall trees provide a perfect canopy keeping most of the light out. I look around at the ground and notice that the trail we are on doesn't end, but continues on deeper into the grove of trees and brush.

"This way," I tell Sam, as I continue following the route the plasma makes. I am terrified that I am following the sanguine path of my girlfriend. I pray that we do not find her body marred and lifeless deep in the woodland. Shaking those thoughts from my head, I advance over small boulders and through thick brush, following the line of plasma.

We struggle through until the plants give way to a small clearing. And laying in that clearing is something I had hoped not to find. The obsidian knife that Nic had, had in her hand the last time I seen her was there on the ground, covered with blood. I fell to my knees because I now knew that even though she had the strength and ability to overpower the Cranoxion, Nic no longer possessed the means to kill it.

"Dean," Sam says, as he lays a hand on my shoulder. "Maybe the lore is wrong. Maybe the knife isn't the only thing that can kill it. If I know Nic, she will try everything to do that too. We know she has the gift to thwart it. Just keep faith in that."

He's right, I know he's right, but fuck if it doesn't make me feel any better. It should be me out there trying to find the means to stop the Cranoxion. It should be me out there fighting for my life with everything I got. As I sit there on my knees, staring at the knife I begin to hear a faint noise.

"Sam, do you hear that?"

"Hear wh-?"  
"Shh, listen."

And there it is again. Almost like an echo of an echo. "Help me! Help!" I grab the knife and stand up taking off toward the sound, Sam hot on my heels. Jumping fallen limbs and trees, I speed through until I get to the edge of a hidden ravine. I almost fall forward down into it when Sam collides into my back, but he reaches out and grabs my arm, stabilizing me.

"Nic! Nicole!" I scream, hoping to hear her voice and discover where she is. As soon as the echo of my voice dies down, I hear rustling in the brush behind us. We both turn and standing there is the Cranoxion. I stiffen my stance and tighten my grasp on the knife. The monster charges at me and I jump to the side, hoping it will maintain its journey right over into the deep canyon. Unfortunately, it is buoyant enough to halt its rush and stops at the edge, right in the spot I just vacated. Sam grabs a downed tree limb and strikes it across the back. The Cranoxion goes down and I jump toward it, thrusting my weapon right into its side. The monster tries to get up, staggers and fall dead on the ground. I huff out a breath, glad to have finally put another monster down. But my joy is short-lived when I hear Nic's voice yelling for help again.

 **~~End Dean's P.O.V~~**

"Guys, I need a scalding hot shower. Being stuck down there with those poor people has me feeling all kinds of dirty," I say, walking into Bobby's door and upstairs.

"You saved Gerald. If it weren't for you babe, he would have met the same fate as the rest of them," Dean assures me. I stop on the staircase and smile.

"Yeah, I know," I faintly smile as I trek up the steps, leaving the boys in the kitchen.

"I still can't believe the Cranoxion attacked and took couples who were trying to work out problems in their relationships," Sam says. "I mean, why? What good did it do to take them only to leave them to meet their death by nature?"

"I don't know man," Dean answers. "Remember when fighting monsters was just black and white, no gray areas?"

"Why did it attack you though?"

"We were arguing. About Ronald Patrickson. She wants to go pay him a visit."

"Can't say as I blame her, Dean," Sam tells his brother. "Maybe she wants closure."

Sam has his nose stuck in the book that informed us about the Cranoxion, so he doesn't notice Dean's posture go rigid.

"I know, but-"

Sam interrupts him. "Well I didn't see this before."

"What?" Dean asks, coming over to read across his brother's shoulder.

"It says that the only way to kill a Cranoxion is with an obsidian knife wielded by someone who is truly in love," Sam turns his head and looks at his brother, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Whatever," Dean answers, brushing off the comment. He walks to the fridge and grabs a beer and heads upstairs.

I leave the bathroom, feeling clean and refreshed to find Dean sitting on our bed, his head hanging to his chest.

"Dean?"

He lifts his head and looks at me. "You were right. Let's go pay a visit to Ronald."


	19. Retribution

**Warning:** this chapter has quite a bit of detail about what happened to Nic when she was 9. Ronald says some choice things.

* * *

As soon as Dean pulls up to the desolate trailer that corresponded to the address Sam had given me before we dropped him at the local library, my heart feels as if it is in the pit of my stomach. I am beginning to second-guess this whole business. I now realize that I am going to be in the presence of the man who had kidnapped and raped me as a child once again. Would he recognize me? Would he even remember? What was he going to say to me? My mouth is dry and it is hard to swallow. Tears prick the back of my eyelids, but I promise myself, I am not going to let him see how he affects me.

Sensing my hesitation, Dean grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. "If you want, I can go," he tells me in a soft voice. "No," I reply, knowing this is my fight. As much as I love him, I refuse to allow him to tackle my past. "I'll do it."

Opening the car door, I step out onto the ground and take a deep breath. The air is tinged with an acrid smell. I wrinkle my nose at the odor as Dean walks up to stand beside me. We both look to the dingy white and blue trailer and I take his hand in mine, to give me strength. 'It's now or never.' I think to myself.

Stepping over litter and empty beer cans and bottles, I reach the door and knock. Hearing commotion inside, I await the door to be opened. Muted curses come through the little cracked window in the door. Without warning the door swings outward toward me, making me jump back to avoid being knocked down. A mid-height man with a prominent beer gut, bloodshot brown eyes and a receding line of light brown hair stood in the frame. Those eyes, eyes that haunted me for years. I swallow the bile lodged in my throat.

"Whatever you're selling, I ain't buying," Ronald slurs as he squints at me and then Dean.

"Ronald Patrickson?" Dean asks when I remain silent.

"Yea. Do I know you?"

I finally find my voice and say, "You know me. Chicago, 1988. Jog your memory any?"

Ronald's brown eyes widen before he catches himself and schools his face in indifference.

"You got the wrong person," Ronald says, as he reaches for the door slams the palm of his hand on it to hold it open. "I don't think so," he tells Ronald, his voice low and threatening. Ronald shrinks back.

"Listen, I was young and dumb. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you. I had never done anything like that and never did after that," Ronald pleaded his case. "Please you got to know. I had nightmares for years. I regretted it."

I could feel the anger bubble inside me. "You had nightmares? NIGHTMARES?! No, I had nightmares. Every single night for a decade, I feared going to sleep because you always came then. Your face terrorized me in my dreams. Every night, I seen you grab me, carry me away from my dad and hit me, kick me, tear my clothes from my body. You forced me to-." By this time I was sobbing, tears rapidly overflowing my eyes. "You forced yourself on me. Pushed yourself into my tiny body while I silently cried, afraid to make a sound. Afraid to even breathe because you said you'd kill me, kill my dad. So, no, Ronald Patrickson," I say his name with venom, "you did not have nightmares!"

Dean's arm, the one not holding the door open, came around me, grounding me. He had the sense to tell I was letting my temper build and knew if I didn't rein it in, no telling what was going to happen. Ronald watched the gesture and backed away, stumbling over the litter scattered across the floor.

"I'm sorry. I am truly sorry. I didn't mean it. Like I said, I was young and stupid. Can't you just forget it now. It's been almost twenty years. Surely, you can let it go. Have your man there take care of you," Ronald was begging, imploring for forgiveness; tears staining his face, dripping onto his white wife-beater.

I step into his home, watching as he continues backtracking into his kitchen. Dean enters behind me, shutting the door. I follow Ronald as he staggers around the table and looks around, probably for some type of defense, protection. Dean pulls his gun from the back of his pants and cock it, "I don't think so."

The sound causes Ronald to instantly freeze, staring between me, Dean and the barrel. He suddenly lunges over the table toward Dean who squeezes the trigger in defense, hitting Ronald in the shoulder, a through-and-through hit. Ronald slumps onto the table, rolling off into the dirty floor. He is holding his bleeding shoulder and writhing in pain. "You stupid asshole! You shot me! And all over some slut who can't get over the fact that a real man gave her what no one else could!" Ronald's face is flushed with fury. "I tore that tight little pussy up and loved every second of it."

Ronald was on his back in the floor, looking up at us with a suggestive smirk on his face. I couldn't stand to hear another word. I strolled to hover over him. Lifting my leg, I lowered my foot settling it over his groin area, his words on repeat in my head. Every nerve-ending in my body was alive and I could feel the power within me surge. Putting every bit of energy I possessed into it, I stomp on this crotch until I felt two small pops. Ronald yowled like a dying dog.

Removing my foot, blood seeping through his jeans and beginning to pool on the floor beneath him. "You are a despicable human being you don't deserve the pleasure of ever using your dick again!" I said, bending over him and spitting into his face. Dean grabs me by the waist, lifts me up and carries me back to the Impala, sitting me in the passenger seat before closing the door and rounding it to get inside.

The adrenaline pulsing through my veins, the sense of satisfaction of finally, FINALLY getting retribution on the man who had stolen not only my body, but my innocence when I was just nine years old has my heart pumping rapidly. Never again will this man, Ronald Patrickson, be able to cause any physical, emotional or mental pain to another human being. I smile, a wicked and vicious grin. I have done it. I have defeated my demon. My personal demon wasn't an actual beast or monster; no, my demon has been an immoral and shameless degenerate of a human being.

Looking up at Dean, the shock and awe on his face is unmistakable. I can tell he was proud of me for ultimately conquering this last piece of my past. I could now move on, knowing that my attacker, my _rapist_ would live out what little life he has left regretting ever kidnapping a harmless, naive child and forcing himself on her. The emotions on Dean's face runs through me and makes me feel invincible.

"Damn, baby!" Dean exclaims. "You put a whole new meaning to 'busting his balls'." He slides across the seat closer to me and pulls me into his arms. "I'm so proud of you," he whispers into my hair. "But remind me never to piss you off." I chuckle. Leave it to Dean to joke at a time like this.

"Baby, you could never anger me enough to do you bodily harm," I tell him, looking up into his eyes. "I'd just key the Impala." Dean scoffs and stumbles back, as if I had truly caused him pain. "That's low, Nic. Real low. What did Baby ever do to you?"

I laugh at him and reach for his hand. "Let's get out of here."

Feeling the purr of the engine beneath me has my body on edge, the rumble sending pulses through my body, ceasing at my core. How the hell am I horny after squeezing the true essence from that asshole's testicles? But that's what I was, and the reverberation from Baby is not helping my situation any.

Seeing a remote dirt road coming up, I pointed it out to Dean. "Pull down that road."

"Okay," Dean says, confusion lacing his answer, but does as I request. As soon as we are hidden enough from the main highway, I tell him to stop. Sliding the car into park, he reaches down and cuts the motor.

"What's wrong, Nic?" he worriedly asks me.

"Nothing," I answer, sliding closer to his side. "I just need a moment to clear my head."

I lean up to him and touch my lips to his. He reciprocates, running his tongue across my bottom lip. I reply with a slight gasp, allowing him to enter my mouth. Deepening the kiss, I slip my left hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. My right hand grabs his leg, slowly rubbing up his jean-covered thigh, right to his groin. Feeling the material tightening beneath my touch, I snag the button of his pants and pull it loose.

Dean excitedly groans into my mouth as we continue gliding our tongues together. He tries to pull away, but I keep a tight grip on his neck, clutching him to me. We only separate when the need for oxygen becomes too much. Opening my eyes, I look up into his green orbs. I can see my arousal and thrill mirrored there.

Maintaining my mode of attack, I swiftly pull his zipper down and reach into his boxers, latching onto his length. Pumping my hand slowly, he leans back and arches into my grip. Using my other hand and his, we work together to get his jeans and briefs over his hips, to his knees. My mouth waters, looking at his hardened member, head red and leaking. Getting up into the seat on my knees, I bend over placing kitten licks and kisses to it, causing Dean to hum in contentment.

Swirling my tongue around the tip, I slide my tongue into the slit, lapping up the pre-cum. Dean's hand lands on my head, fingers fisting my hair. I slowly press my lips around him, letting him slide into my mouth, the weight of it on my tongue. Flattening the muscle, I take him deeper until I feel him at the back of my throat. Suppressing my gag reflex and hollowing my cheeks, I take him even deeper.

"Oh g-god, N-Nic!" Dean, exclaims, fisting my hair tighter. Pulling up, I swirl my tongue round the head of his dick again and take him back in faster. Bobbing up and down quicker and quicker, I could feel not only the coil in my abdomen quiver, but his thigh muscles constricting. I take him down my throat and swallow around him, earning a loud moan from up top.

I reach between my legs and massage myself through my pants. I need the friction to stimulate my arousal. I slip a hand into my leggings, trying to achieve pleasure. Dean's hand soon meets mine and pushes it out of the way, his calloused finger caressing the bundle of nerves.

His ministrations match mine; faster strokes and more pressure on my clit the quicker and deeper I take him in. I take my now free hand and cup his balls, stroking and kneading them languidly.

He runs his finger up and down my folds, circling my entrance and returning to my clit. I moan around him as he thrusts his middle finger into me. I feel the coil tighten more and I pick up my pace, taking him in faster and massaging his balls quicker. His finger pushes harder and deeper into me, him adding another finger making my orgasm explode out of nowhere. His balls contract and he's spilling into me and I swallow every drop he gives me.

I let go of his softening cock, it falling out of my mouth. I lick my lips and sit up, watching him suck my juices off his fingers. "Not that I'm complaining but what was that for?" he asks.

I shrug and push my lips onto his, kissing him again. "Hmm. C'mere. It's my turn, now." Dean tells me pushing me back onto the seat.


	20. Alone Time Cut Short

Dean leaned me back onto the seat of the Impala, struggling to work his jeans the rest of the way from his legs. I watched as he toed off his boots and kicked them in the floorboard. His pants quickly joined them. He hovered over me, the amulet given to him by Sam years ago hanging in the air between us.

Lowering his head, his lips met mine, his tongue swiftly diving between my lips, the need for sweet, close-lipped kisses unnecessary. As our tongues tangled, Dean's hands slid down my sides, catching onto the hem of my leggings. His fingertips slowly dipped beneath the fabric, placing butterfly touches to my hips. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers twirling the short hairs at the nape.

As he slipped my leggings over my hips and thighs, his mouth left mine to place lascivious kisses across my hip bones and above my mound. I couldn't keep the sigh I breathed silent. The feel of his breath and lips on my skin desirous. I could feel the slick at my core saturate my loins. Getting my leggings over my boots ceased his efforts as Dean kneeled and began untying and discarding the offending shoes until he could rip my pants from my legs.

While he had been untying and ditching my boots and then my leggings, I had removed my shirt and bra and couldn't hold back from kneading my breasts. Dean looked up at me through half-lidded eyes and drew an audible breath at my actions. He grabbed my ankles, spreading them and tucking himself between my legs. Placing barely there kisses to my calf, the inside of my knee and up my thigh his lips made a path to the cusp of my sex.

His nose brushed my folds and I not only heard but felt the rumble of his groan. "God, Nic, you smell so sweet. Gotta taste you," he murmured before his tongue licked a stripe from my entrance to my clit. "Mmmm, just a sweet as always." As he twirled his tongue around my clit, I felt wetness pool at my core.

Teeth nibbled at the bundle of nerves, I kneaded my boobs harder, needing friction wherever I could get it. His finger lazily drew tight little circles at my entrance before languidly slipping inside. I moaned at the sensation, egging him to insert another finger. Crooking them, he stroked the front wall, stimulating my g-spot as he continued to nip my clit with barely there teeth. I could feel the coil in my lower abdomen almost achingly tighten.

The pressure of his calloused fingertips on the ridged area inside me made me squirm; he placed his free hand over my stomach and held me still. Looking down, I met his desire-blown eyes and could feel the smile against my sex. The presence of admiration, adoration, and something else I couldn't pinpoint in my lust filled mind caused the coil to burst, causing the orgasm to rush through me like a hurricane. Dean moaned loudly as my juices covered his hand and his chin as he rapidly attacks me with his tongue, trying to capture all of it.

Once he had cleared as much as he could, he inched up my body, leaving a trail of sticky wet kisses to my stomach, sternum, between and on the side of each of my breasts, to my shoulder, my neck and the spot below my ear before meeting my lips with his. I could faintly taste myself on him as he crashed into me, gliding his tongue in.

Dean deepened the kiss and I felt him line his already hardened member at my entrance. He smoothly slid into me, pushing himself inward until he was fully sheathed. Resting long enough for me to adjust, he began pistoning his hips, pushing the feeling of complete entirety higher and higher. I began meeting him thrust for thrust in a rhythm likened to the voracity of rabbits. Our orgasms hit quick and we were both breathless, panting in the splendor of it all.

Dean's cell begins to ring. Looking down at me spread out under him, he reluctantly answers it.  
"Hello? Hey Ellen. What's going on? Yeah, we'll be right there," he looks at me apologetically. "We need to go by the Roadhouse." At my grimace, he goes on, "I know, but Ellen says she needs us to get there now." I concede, sitting up and getting dressed. We had to stop and get Sam on the way so there was no time to revel in the afterglow of the intimacy we just shared.

We pull up to the Roadhouse and head inside. I don't want to be here; I don't want my good mood to be ruined by having to deal with her. After taking care of the Cranoxion and before dealing with Ronald, Dean and I had spent time together, getting closer in more than physical ways. We had discussed our relationship, hunting and to my amazement, we had discussed the future. Hunters never talked about the future because we never knew from day to day when our time was going to be up.

"So. You uh, you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?" Ellen gets right to the point as soon as we are all seated. She hands us each an opened beer. "No. Not really. No offense, it's just kind of a family thing," Dean tells her.

"Not anymore" Ellen says, dropping a stack of papers on the bar. "I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his sixth month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?"

"Yeah, we think so," Sam interjects.

"Sam..." I say in warning.

"Why?" Ellen asks, looking at the three of us.

"None of your business," Dean tells her, taking a drink of his beer.

"You mind your tongue with me, boy" Ellen orders, pointing a finger at Dean. "This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad's coming and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here."

"There are people out there, like Andy Gallagher, like me. And um ... we all have some kind of ability," Sam explains.

"Ability?"

"Yeah. Psychic ability. Me, I have, um, I have visions. Premonitions. I don't know, it's, it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us. "

"What kind of plans?" Ellen begins grilling Sam

"We don't really know for sure," I speak up, answering her honestly.

"These people out there, these psychics - they dangerous?"

"No. Not all of them," Dean answers, looking over at the younger Winchester.

"But some are. Some are very dangerous," Sam tells her.

"Okay, how many of them are we looking at?"

"We've been able to track a clear pattern so far. They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six month birthday."

"That's not true," Sam sadly tells Ellen. He is devastated that the pattern is no longer fixed.

"What?" I asked him, not understanding what he means.

"Weber? Or Ansen Weems, or whatever his name is - I looked at his files, and there was no house fire. There's nothing out of the ordinary."

"Which breaks pattern. So if there's any others like him, there'd be nothing in the system. No way to track 'em all down."

"And so who knows how many of 'em are really out there?" I can tell the boys are getting discouraged seeing that the more information we come up with, the less it makes sense. Jo walks into the bar and Ellen beckons her over. I automatically tense up and Dean grabs my hand and squeezes. No one notices my reaction except him.

"Jo honey?"

"Yeah?" Jo says, noticing our joined hands and turns to her mother.

"You'd better break out the whiskey."

The boys and I, along with Ellen, start going through all the information Ash had pulled up for children whose homes had burnt when the child was 6 months old, trying to find another possibility of what this demon was after.

Later that night, after we had thoroughly reviewed every report Ash had provided and emptied multiple bottles of whiskey, we all turned in. Ellen being kind enough to arrange sleeping quarters for the three of us. Thankfully this time, I didn't share a room with Jo, but with Dean.

The next morning, Dean and I are surprisingly the first ones awake.

"Good morning, beautiful!"

"Morning," I say, stretching. I had had an amazing dream-free sleep and am feeling pretty refreshed. Pulling me tighter to him, Dean nuzzles the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. The feeling of his lips touching that sensitive skin begins to flow through me, causing shivers down my spine, until my stomach growls and he stops his ministrations to chuckle.

"Wanna go get breakfast?" he asks me, sitting up to look at me.

"Sounds good. Should we wake Sam?"

"Yeah, I'll go get him while you get dressed." He rolls out of bed and bends down to kiss my forehead before leaving the room.

Pulling back up to the Roadhouse, I pull out my phone as we get out of the Impala.

"Los Angeles, California."

"What's in L.A.?" Sam asks me.

"Young girl's been kidnapped by an evil cult," I tell him, trying to keep a straight face and not give way that it's a joke. "Yeah? Girl got a name?" Sam seems interested in the possible case, while I'm having a hard time keeping my giggles in check. "Katie Holmes," I can no longer hold it and permit the laugh to leave my lips. Sam joins in laughing with me, "That's funny."

"And for you, so bitchy," Dean tells me, earning him a slap on the ass. He jumps slightly at the contact and wraps an arm around me, whispering in my ear, "You're asking for it, darlin'." I smile up at him, letting him know his threat was welcomed.

Sam rolls his eyes and grunts, "Guys, enough with the PDA. I want to hold my breakfast down." I know Sam is just joking because of the grin he is being terrible at hiding.

From inside the roadhouse comes the sound of breaking glass and shouting voices. Dean turns and looks toward the building. "Catfight," I warn them as we head for the door.

"I am your mother, I don't have to be reasonable!" Ellen yelled at her daughter. "You can't keep me here!" Jo fired back. "Oh, don't you bet on that, sweetie," Ellen said, voice laced with annoyance. "What are you going to do, are you going to chain me up in the basement?" Jo asked, following Ellen around the bar.  
"I wouldn't mind that," I muttered silently. But not quite enough that Dean didn't hear me; he looked down at me, squirming a brow. "You know what, you've had worse ideas than that recently. Hey, you don't wanna stay, don't stay. Go back to school," Ellen offered.  
"I didn't belong there! I was a freak with a knife collection," Jo tried to get sympathy. 'Freak is right,' I thought to myself. I didn't want Dean to know that she still irked me. "Yeah, and getting yourself killed on some dusty back road, that's where you belong?!" Ellen said, seeing through her daughter's attempt to earn pity. Ellen turns and sees the boys and I standing there.  
"Guys, bad time."  
"Yes, ma'am," Sam says, turning to leave. Dean grabs my hand and we go to follow Sam, "Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway."  
"Wait. I wanna know what they think about this," Jo tells her mom, grabbing a file folder from a table. A family with two kids under three, all wearing bright yellow t-shirts that read "Nebraska is for Lovers" enter. "I don't care what they think!" Ellen tells her daughter.  
The dad of the group asks, "Are you guys open?"  
"No!" "Yes!" Ellen and Jo answer simultaneously.  
"You'd probably be safer checking out the Arby's down the road," I tell the family and they leave.  
The phone rings. Jo glares at it, then at her mom. Ellen stalks over to answer it. Jo walks up to us, holding the folder. "Three weeks ago a young girls disappears from a Philadelphia apartment," she explains, shoving it at Dean. "Take it, it won't bite."  
"No, but your mom might," Dean says, glancing toward Ellen before taking the file.  
"This girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes," Jo clarifies, looking pointedly at me. "Only happens every decade or two so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with one very old serial killer, or —"  
"Who put this together? Ash?" Dean asks as he reads over the information the file contains. Sam looks over his brother's shoulder while I try to comprehend why Jo is focused on me.  
"I did it myself," Jo exclaims, visibly proud of herself.  
The boys hum, impressed, "Hmm."  
"I gotta admit," I cringe, hating that I am saying this. "We've hit the road for a lot less."  
"Good. You like the case so much, you take it," Ellen tells us, having finished her phone call.  
"Mom!" Jo almost looks as if she's about to throw a tantrum because she's not getting her way. I inwardly smile, knowing that her outburst just makes her look more like a child to Dean.

We make it to Philadelphia one-day, the next day. Pulling up to the address for the apartment complex, I look out the window up at the building. It looks just like any other building, no weird construction, no unusual urns or novelty items that could be used to hex the dwelling. We round up our equipment, such as EMF readers, a crowbar and a shotgun loaded with salt rounds and shirk the side of the building to get to a back door, basement or some other type of opening to get in.  
Once inside we find the apartment of the latest victim easily and Sam works at picking the lock.  
"I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case," he tells us.  
"Yeah, maybe she put together a good file. But could you see her out here working one of these things?" I answer, already tired of this conversation. "I don't think so. What'd she do when the monsters captured her, throw a tantrum?" Both boys looked at me and smirked. "It's true guys! You seen how she acted when her mom told her no and gave us the case."  
I pulled out my EMF reader as they did and started strolling around the apartment. "You getting anything?"  
"No, not yet," Sam answers me, as he runs his reader over the light switch, it purrs. He leans over. "What's that?" he asks to no one in particular. Dean walks over to investigate, "What?" I follow behind. Sam reaches out and touching something black and slimy. "Holy crap."  
Dean also touches the goo, but I am not about to. Lord only knows what it is.  
"That's ectoplasm," Dean says, sniffing the substance on his finger. "Well, guys, I think I know what we're dealing with here. It's the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man." Sam rolls his eyes at his brother's nonsense and I throw a classic bitch face toward my boyfriend.  
"Dean, I've only seen this stuff, like, twice. I mean, to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit."  
"Oh great!" I utter, "Casper's irritated."  
Dean smiles at my antic, "All right, let's find this badass before he snags any more girls."

We exit the apartment and are walking down the hallway when we hear voices. We quickly hide around a corner. I frown and look at Dean when I realize the woman's voice belongs to Jo.  
"It's so convenient," Jo tells the man walking with her. He's dressed in overalls so I assume he's the landlord. "Yeah, it's a great building, fixed it up real nice," the landlord tells her. "All the apartments come furnished, too."  
"It is so spacious," Jo cheery voices grated on my nerves. "You know, my friend told me I absolutely have to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place." Before I can grab him, Dean steps around the corner. "What the hell are you doing here?"  
"There you are," Jo says as she steps to Dean's side. She tries to wrap an arm around him, but he pushes her away. "Who are you," the landlord asks, surprised to find anyone in the hallway.  
"Dean, my b-" Jo begins her introduction that I quickly interrupt. "Dean is her brother," I say, Sam right behind me. "Sam and Dean are her brothers. And I'm his fiancee," I explain, pushing my way between Dean and Jo. The look on Dean's face is unreadable as he looks down at me.


	21. Tensions Rising

"So, did you already check out that apartment? The one for rent," Jo asks us, looking mostly at Dean though. "Yeah. Yes," Dean answers, shifting from foot to foot nervously. "Loved it. Heh. Great flow."

"How'd you get in?" the landlord inquires, eyeing the three of us.

"It was open," I say with a voice dripping with as much fake beneficence. Jo shrugs off my comment and purposefully puts herself back into the main focus of conversation. "Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?"

"About a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stuck me for the rent."

"Well. Her loss, our gain!" Jo says as she pulls out a wad of cash. "We'll take it."

The landlord takes the money and gives Jo the key to the apartment and the four of us return to the suite. Taking another walk through, we notice there is only one bedroom with a queen-size bed in it, but there is a nice, comfortable looking sofa and armchair in the main room.

Jo looks at Sam and says, "I'll flip you for the sofa." I am beyond thankful that it was common knowledge that Dean and I would get the bed. There isn't any way we could both fit on the couch, not with Dean's height and my frame. "Does your mother even know you're here?" Dean asks Jo. We all know that Ellen had thrown a fit when she found out that Jo had been planning on coming here to hunt this thing, alone. That's how we ended up with the case to begin with.

"Told her I was going to Vegas." Jo answers, nonchalantly. "You think she's gonna buy that?" Dean asks. "I'm not an idiot. I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos."

"You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. Shouldn't be here either," Dean says and I'm beginning to pick up on something I don't like. It sounds like Dean actually cares whether Ellen knows where her daughter is.

"Well, I am. So untwist your boxers and deal with it," Jo tells him, turning and walking away from him. "You don't worry about his damn boxers, honey," I say, anger bubbling just under the surface. "Because believe me, you have no effect whatsoever on them."

"Oh really?" Jo smirks, walking up to me. "I have to beg to differ with you there, honey. The first time you guys were at the Roadhouse, I fucking had an effect on them."

I took a step toward her ready to knock the smirk off her face. "ENOUGH, DAMMIT!" Dean yells, stopping me in my tracks. He walks over to me and puts an arm around my shoulder, grounding me. He glances over the two of us and silently begs Sam to help alleviate the tension in the room. Sam decides to try and change the subject, needling Jo for information, "Where'd you get all that money from, anyways?"

"Working, at the Roadhouse," Jo turns to answer him. "Bullshit." I say, ready to confront her for lying now. "Hunters don't tip that well."

"Well, they aren't that good at poker, either," she says, eyeing me. Dean's cell phone rings and he answers it. "Yeah." I can hear Ellen's voice since I'm standing next to him. "Is she with you?"

"Oh, hi Ellen," Dean says, the pitch of his voice a bit higher than usual to get the attention of the room. "She left a note she's in Vegas. I don't believe it for a second."

Dean holds the phone back away from his face, to talk to Jo. "I'm telling her."

Jo comes to stand toe to toe with him, whispering, begging for him to keep his mouth shut.

"Dean?" Ellen inquires, through the phone.

"I haven't seen her," he lies, and I scoff and walk into the bedroom, slamming the door closed.

Dean finishes the phone conversation and puts his phone back in his pocket. Coming to the closed door, he knocks, "Nic, baby. Can I come in?" I hadn't locked the door so as soon as he turns the knob, he opens it and enters.

"What the hell was that all about?" he asks me, confused.

"Oh, nothing, Dean," I say sarcastically. "Just one minute you're telling her to not lie to her mother and then the next minute _YOU_ are the one lying to Ellen." I walk toward the bed, sit down and cross my arms. "It's making my head fucking spin."

Dean approaches the bed and kneels in front of me. "Listen, I know you don't like her, but she's here and you know what, it was her that gathered the information about it. No, I don't like that she's here either, but we could use the extra set of hands."

I look at him, perplexed. "You want to work with her? You want ME to work with her? Did you hear her out there? She knew that would get me riled up! She fucking knew, Dean! And she used it to get to me. She threw that shit right in my face. And you're in here asking me to work with her? Have you lost it? One too many hits to the head?" By this time, I've stood and am staring him down.

"Calm down, sweetheart. I know, I know she shouldn't've brought that up. But you know! Dammit, you know the truth of what really happened that day. The only effect she had on me was I saw her for who she really is. Baby, please, let's just put it to the side and focus on ganking this ghost, ok?"

I know Dean has a good point. I know that Jo had tricked Dean into going into the storage room at the Roadhouse with her; I know she practically threw herself at him; and I know it never went any further than that but I just cannot, in any reality or universe, trust Jo Harvelle. "You are not working with her alone. I will be there every step of the way. No teaming me up with Sam. You understand?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way, sweetheart," Dean says as he pulls me to him, his lips meeting mine.

Dean paces the room while Jo and Sam are at the table, looking over the building's blueprints. Jo is flipping a small knife around. "This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago," Jo reads off the information about the complex.

"Yeah? What was here before 1924?" Dean stops his pacing to ask.

"Nothing. Empty field," Jo answers, not looking up at him. While Dean and I had been talking in the bedroom, Sam had warned Jo to leave us alone or he would call her mother and tell her Jo's actual whereabouts. And that had intimidated her enough to obey. "So, most likely scenario, someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell," I suggested.

Jo, shaking her head, squashed that idea, "I already checked. In the past eighty two years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor." Jo finally looks up at Dean, who had began pacing again, "Would you sit down, please?"

Dean complies and sits at the table. "So, have you checked police reports, county death records…?"

"Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing," she tells him, belligerently.

"I think the jury's still out on that one," I mumble, but apparently Jo heard because the knife stills in her hand and she slowly turns her head to look at me, her eyes slanted. "Could you put the knife down?" Dean asks, noticing the tension arising again between us. "Okay! So, uh, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it," Sam throws out another suggestion.

"Well, we've got to scan the whole building, then. Everywhere we can get to, right?"

"Right. So, you and me," Dean says, looking at me "we'll take the top two floors."

"We'll move faster if we split up," Jo advises. "That's why you and Sam are taking the bottom floor." Jo starts to protest but Dean stops it quickly. "Oh, this isn't negotiable."

Dean and I roam the floor, waving our EMF readers back and forth. The machines noticeably silent. "You know, it's bad enough I lied to her mom, but I don't know if you've noticed, but she's kind of the spirit's type."

"Yeah, I know. 'T's the only reason I've decided to let bygones be bygones."

"You wanna use her as bait?" Dean asks me, shocked, but not surprised.

"It'll be the quickest way to draw whatever it is out and you know it. Besides I can't do it. The ghost don't want me."

"Yeah, but I do," Dean says as he kisses my cheek and slaps my ass. "Oh," I yelped.

"Wait," Dean says, stopping at the juncture of the hallway. "You smell that?" I sniff, a pungent odor permeates the air, then ask, "What is that, a gas leak?"

"No. Something else. I know it. I just can't put my finger on it." I crouch by the grating; my EMF reader begins to purr. "Mazel Tov. You just found our spirit," Dean smiles at me and then presses his lips to mine chastely. "It's inside the vent," I tell him.

Dean crouches down beside me, shining his flashlight into the vent and then hands it over. He pulls out a screwdriver and unscrews the grating, pulling it off the wall. "There's something in there." He reaches his arm inside, feeling around. He pulls his hand out, holding a clump of blond hair. "Somebody's keeping souvenirs," Dean says as I scrunch up my nose.

After describing what we found, the four of us decide to get a good night's rest so we can focus on understanding this spirit's protocol. Dean and I head to the bedroom to let Sam and Jo discuss their own sleeping arrangements. Laying in the bed, cuddled in Dean's embrace, my back to his chest and his arm draped over my waist, I am almost asleep when his hand starts wandering south.

"What are you doing?" I whisper. "If you don't know, then I'm doing it wrong," he answers, chuckling. "Dean, as much as I'd love to prove to Jo that you're mine, I am not having sex with you with your brother right in the next room!"

"You're no fun," he pouts as he pulls his hand back to my waist. I twist my neck enough to be able to land a quick kiss to the underside of his chin. "Go to sleep, Dean."

The next morning, Dean and I enter the kitchen area to find Jo alone, sitting at the table twirling her knife again and going over notes and the blueprints. "Morning," she says, not really paying attention to us. Dean places a bag on the table and pulls out a Bowie knife, unsnaps it from the sheath and hands it to her, hilt-first.

"Here."

"What's this for?" Jo asks, confused.

"It'll work a hell of a lot better than that little pig-sticker you're twirling around."

Jo takes the knife from him then hands him hers. He studies it, and I can see it has initials engraved on the blade: W.A.H. Dean looks up at me then to Jo, and I nod in understanding. It was her father's knife. "William Anthony Harvelle," Jo says, like it's no big deal. "I'm sorry. My mistake," Dean apologizes, taking his knife back and sheathes it.

"What do you.. what do you remember about your dad? I mean, what's the first thing that pops into your head?" Dean shakes his head, like he's not going to get into this conversation. "Come on, tell me," Jo pleads. Dean sits across from her, "I was six or seven, and uh, he took me shooting for the first time. You know, balls on a fence, that kind of thing. I bulls-eyed every one of 'em. He gave me this smile, like... I don't know." Dean smiles at the memory. "He must have been proud," Jo states.

"What about your dad?" Dean asks. I'm beginning to feel awkward because my relationship with my dad was never forced or compulsive, or practically non-existent like Sam and Dean's was with John. My dad and I had a great relationship. For almost 25 years, my dad and I had each other and that was enough.

"I was still in pigtails when my dad died, but I remember him coming home from a hunt. He'd burst through that door like, like Steve McQueen or something," Jo tells us, smiling at her own memories. "And he'd sweep me up in his arms, and I'd breathe in that old leather jacket of his. And my mom, who was sour and pissed from the minute he left, she started smiling again. And we were... we were a family. You wanna know why I want to do the job? For him. It's my way of being close to him. Now tell me what's wrong with that."

"Nothing," Dean and I say, simultaneously, although mine is weak. I realize that Sam is missing, and as I start to ask his whereabouts he bursts through the door.

Sam bursts through the door, "There are cops outside. Another girl disappeared."

It is decided that Dean and I will go ask and see what we can find out about the newest victim; if she resembles the other marks. Sam and Jo are studying the notes, a little more urgently than before when Dean and I return. "Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F. Boyfriend reported her missing around dawn," I inform the duo. "And her apartment?" Jo asks.

"Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There was ectoplasm, too," Dean answer her, but is looking at his brother. "Well, between that and that tuft of hair I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls," Sam confirms. "But who is it? Building's history is totally clean," Dean questions.

Jo picks up a photograph and looks at it intently. "Well, maybe we're looking in the wrong place."

"What do you mean?" Dean inquires, walking over to take a look at the picture she's holding

"Check this out."

Sam takes the photo from Jo's hand and closely examines it. "An empty field?"

"It's where this building was built. Take a look at the one next door. The windows."

"Bars," Sam acknowledges. "We're next door to a prison?" I ask, knowing the stakes of the hunt just possibly surpassed all of our expertise. If it was an inmate that had been put to death and he was still pissed, it could have huge ramifications on whether we could handle this hunt. Three hunters and a wannabe might not be able to take down a murdered criminal with a grudge.

Jo offers to call Ash and have him look up and send any information about the prison that this apartment complex was built beside. She makes the call and after letting him know that it was covert and threatened bodily harm if he told her mom about her call, Ash agreed to find out what he could and send it to us as soon as possible.

"Ok, so far all he knows is it was the Moyamensing prison. Built in 1835, torn down in 1963. And get this. They used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door."

"Well, then, we need a list. All the people executed there," Sam warrants.

"Ash is already on it," Jo tells him, with a smile in her face; she is proud of herself.


	22. Bye Bye Creepy Ghost

The list we receive from Ash is extensive; 157 names of people executed on the grounds that the apartment complex now stands.

"Guys, we have to narrow that list down," I tell them.

"Or else, we're going to be digging up a lot of stiffs," Dean concludes.

Sam is scrolling through the names and suddenly stops, lean forwards and studies the screen. "Hmm. Herman Webster Mudgett. Wasn't that H. H. Holmes real name?"  
Dean walks to stand behind his brother and looks at the name highlighted. "You gotta be kidding me!"

Jo and I look at each other, both in confusion. "Who is H. H. Holmes?"

"The term "multi-murderer", they coined it to describe Holmes. He was America's first serial killer, before anybody knew what a serial killer was," Dean tells us.

"Yeah, he confessed to twenty seven murders, but some put the death toll at over a hundred," Sam continues the explanation. "And his victim flavor of choice? Pretty petite blondes. He, uh, he used chloroform to kill 'em."

Dean speaks up, "Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night. At his place, cops found human remains, bone fragments, and long locks of bloody blonde hair" He looks at Jo, "Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em."

"Well, we just find the bones, salt 'em and burn 'em, right?" Jo asks.

"Well, it's not that easy. His body is buried in town, but it's encased in a couple tons of concrete," Sam explains.

"What? Why?" I asked, confused and a little pessimistic.

"The story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilating his corpse. 'Cause, you know, that's what he used to do." I roll my eyes. 'Of course,' I think to myself

"You know something'. We might have an even bigger problem than that," Sam says.

"How does this get bigger?"

"Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago. He called it the Murder Castle. The whole place was a death factory, they had, uh, trap doors, acid vats, quick line pits... he built these secret chambers inside the walls. He'd lock his victims in, keep them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate, others he'd let starve to death."

"So Teresa could still be alive. She could be inside these walls," Jo says, hopeful.

"We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We've got to smash these walls, anywhere thick enough to hide a girl," Dean says, standing up and going to gather supplies.

Dean and I take the floors we previously had searched, having to squeeze through crawl-spaces inside the building walls. Dean's phone rings; it's Sam.

"Find anything?"

"Okay. Call us after you check the southeast wall." He hangs up.

"Sam's almost done with the first floor. Hasn't found jack squat either. "

Dean stops, making me almost run into him, "What is it?"

"It's too narrow. Can't go any further." I tiptoe to look over his shoulder.

"Let me see," I say as I squeeze by him.

"Nic, What are you-" he begins as I squeeze by him. The space is small and with his large frame standing there, the space is cramped.

"Ugh. Shoulda let you clean the pipes," he mumbles.

"What?" I laugh and the feel his reaction to having my body so close to his.

"Shut up," I giggle but don't really mind the lack of space between us. I lean up and place a chaste kiss on his lips. "I can fit in there."

"You're not going in there by yourself!" he barks.

"You got a better idea?" I ask him, looking up at his face. I can see the worry and concern.

"Babe, I'll be fine. I'm just going to see what I can find."

"Be careful," he says and he places a kiss to my lips. I walk down the confined corridor and turn a corner, out of Dean's sight. My phone immediately starts ringing. I know it's him so I answer.

"Where are you?" he asks in a strained voice. I know he doesn't like this idea but there is no way he would fit in these close quarters.

"On the north wall." I find an air duct and start climbing down in to it. "I'm heading down some kind of air duct."

"No, no, no, no, stay up here," he begs.

"Look, we've gotta find this girl, don't we? I'm okay."

"All right. I'm heading to you."

I come out into a similar space on a lower level. Goo is pouring out from the wall cracks. "Oh god," I murmur, disgusted.

Dean is in my ear asking "What is it? Nic? Nicole!"

I scream as the apparition comes toward me. I can hear screaming my name through the phone. As the ghost grabs me, I drop the phone. I can hear Dean calling my name as I'm dragged away from the abandoned mobile device.

"NICOLE! BABY?"

~DEAN'S P.O.V.

As soon as she is no longer in my sights, I grab my phone calling her number.

"Where are you?!" I am terrified that something is going to happen and I can't get to her to save her. I listen as she tells me that she is going down into an air duct.

"No, no, no, no, stay up here," I beg her. God, she is going to get hurt and I can't stop it. Dammit!

She reaffirms to me that we have to find the missing girl and that she's okay. I get the building blueprints and quickly find where the air duct is and where it comes out. "All right, I'm heading to you." I take off down the hallway, phone still to my ear and I barely hear her exclaim, "Oh god."

"What is it?" My question is met with silence. "NIc? Nicole!" She doesn't answer me and my stomach flips. When I hear her scream, I swear it takes everything I got not to hurl. I take off at a full run, not caring if I come across other tenants of the building. I have to get to the floor below!

Once I get to the lower level, I start trying to listen to see if I can hear her behind the wall. I swing the sledgehammer in my hand, until I knock a massive hole in the wall. I stick my head through the wall and look to see if I can find her. All I find is her phone, laying on the floor. Nicole nowhere to be seen. "Nicole? NICOLE?!" I scream for her and hear silence.

I swear my heart stops beating; it's taking all my energy just to breathe. Why did I let her go in there alone? I should have stopped her. Now the vengeful spirit of a serial killer has her and I just hope and pray I can get her back in one piece, alive.

I rush back down to where I know Sam and Jo are investigating. I run straight into Sam as they turn a corner.

"Whoa there Dean. Where's the fire?"

"He's got Nic," I frantically tell him.

"What? How'd that happen?" Sam asks, concern lacing his voice.

"I wasn't with her; I left her alone. Dammit!" I run my hand through my hair. Why did I let her go alone!

"Hey, hey, look, we'll find her, all right?" Jo tries to reassure me.

"Where?" I snap at her, not meaning to.

"Inside the walls."

"We've been inside the walls all night. None of the other girls were there, she won't be either." My patience is running this fast. "Sam, I can't lose her. I just can't!"

"I know." He tells me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Let's go back to the apartment and regroup.

I'm pacing back and forth while my brother and Jo looks through notes and try to figure out if they've gotten the information wrong. My heart is heavy, filled with dread. If I can't save her, I might as well die myself. This can't be the end for her. She just overcame her past demon when she confronted and practically beat the man who raped her. This cannot be it for her. I have to rescue her. I can't lose her because, dammit, I love her. I am in love with her and I have to tell her. Worry gnaws at my stomach; the fear making me as jittery as I have ever been.

My phone rings and I jerk it out of my pocket. Please let it be her. Please be Nic. I answer it

Yeah.

"You lied to me. She's there," Ellen, Jo's mom, basically yells in my ear.

"Ellen."

"No - Ash told me everything. Man's a genius, but he folds like a cheap suit. Now you put my damn daughter on the phone."

I hand Jo the phone. I don't have time to deal with this mother/daughter power play bullshit they have going on.

"Mom."

I don't pay attention to the conversation. It's just a constant buzz in the background of my thoughts. I have to try to figure out a way to get my girlfriend back.

"Mom! Shut up and listen for one minute." Jo screams into the phone. "Nic is missing. We think the spirit has her. I'm staying to help Sam and Dean rescue her. I don't care, Mom. I have to. This was my case and it's my responsibility."

Hearing Jo say that gives me pause. After trying to seduce me just a few months ago, she is now willing to help me get Nic back. 'Someone's growing up,' I think to myself.

"She's taking the first flight out. She'll be here in a few hours," Jo tells me as she hands me the phone after hanging up.

"Don't beat yourself up, Dean. There's nothing you could have done," Sam tries to comfort me.

"Dammit! Tell me you've got something," I ask him, pleading.

"Uh, maybe. Look. You look at the layout of the Holmes murder castle, there's all the torture chambers inside the walls, right?"

"Right."

"But there's one we haven't considered yet. The one in this basement."

"This building doesn't have a basement," Jo reluctantly points out.

"You're right, it doesn't," Sam agrees. "But I just noticed this. Beneath the foundation, it looks like part of an old sewer system that hasn't been used for —"

I grab my jacket. "Let's go!"

Using metal detectors, Sam and I find the old trap door for the sewer system. I furiously start digging at the soil covering the manhole. As I open it, Sam grabs the shot guns and and hands me one, along with a flashlight. I climb down the metal ladder, Sam close behind. Jo stays up top in case anyone notices the intrusion. The farther we get into the sewer, the more narrow and low it gets, Sam and I end up crawling on our elbows and knees. We come to the epicenter of the structure and there is a heavy iron grate obstructing our advance forward. I can barely see Nic, held in a large wooden box. The ghost's hand covering her mouth. I can hear her muffled cries and anger surges through me.

"Hey!" I yell to get his attention. As looks at me, I fire the gun and hit him in the chest. He flies backwards and disappears. I know we haven't much time until he returns so I frantically work to figure out how to open the girls' prisons. Getting it open I rush to Nic and pry the top of her wooden jail and lift her up. Oh, it feels good to have her back in my arms! I swear to myself I'm never letting her go again. I hand the pipe I used to open Nic's container to Sam and he frees Teresa.

~END DEAN'S P.O.V.

I wake in a small, dark place, lying on my back. I still have my flashlight; I turn it on and shine it around. There is a wall wood a few inches above my face; long scratches gouged in it. I cover my face and sob before I can collect my bearings. To my right is another wood panel with a slit; looking through I can see a larger, round chamber with similar compartments to the one I'm in around it. I hear a noise.

"Hello?"

A female voice answers me. "Is - is anybody there?"

"Your name Teresa?"

"Yes."

"This won't make you feel better, but I'm here to rescue you."

"Oh god. He's out there, he's gonna kill us!" she cries.

"No, he won't. We're getting out. My boyfriend and his brother are looking for us, they'll find us."

I hear footsteps nearby.

"Oh god, it's him!"

"Shh! Just be quiet!" I try to calm her but from the predicament I'm in it's no use.

It's very quiet. A creepy hand bursts through into my prison and grabs me by the head. I screams as I feel it rip off a chunk of hair.

I am so happy to see Dean. I had really began to wonder if I was going to survive. Seeing him and feeling his arms around me is such a relief.

"You alright, baby?" Dean's green eyes search my face.

"Been better. Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back."

"Actually, I don't think you're leaving here just yet," Sam suggests.

"What?" Dean and I both look at the younger Winchester.

"We need bait. We have to get him back here to trap him."

"No, Sam." Dean argues. "I'm not letting her do it."  
"Then let me," a voice rings out and we all turn to see Jo standing in the entrance. "I'm exactly what he's looking for." She goes on as both boys are shaking their heads. "It's kind of the only plan we got."

As Sam gets Teresa away to safety, Dean, Jo and I work to engineer a trap to hold Holmes' body to the sewer. We use bags of salt to and hang them around the edge of the room and fix them to open simultaneously when prodded. Once Sam returns, he, Dean and I leave Jo sitting in the middle of the chamber while we hide to surprise the ghost when he returns. From our viewpoint we can clearly see her sitting there. Holmes' spirit appears behind her and starts walking forward, closing in on her.

When he gets near enough, Dean yells "NOW!" and JO dives forward while the brothers shoot at the bags of salt, creating a complete circle that has now trapped the ghost. Dean pulls Jo to safety as we hear the ghost gibbering and screaming in terror.

"Scream all you want, you dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!" I yell as I slam the grate shut, sealing off the room.

The four of us crawl out of the sewer. I've never been more happy to see sunlight and the sky.

Jo, Sam and I are stand at the entrance to the sewers, looking down. I glance over at Jo. She risked her life to save mine. As much as I don't want to admit it, I owe her.

"So? This job as glamorous as you thought it would be?" I ask her.

"Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. Sure. But that Teresa girl's gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is," I agree. "Thank you Jo. For putting yourself up as bait. For helping save me."

She shrugs nonchalantly. "Hey, what if somebody finds that sewer down there, or a storm washes the salt away?"

"Both very fine points," Sam tells her. "Which is why we're waiting here."

"For what?"

The loud beeping of large truck backing up breaks the air. Sam smiles and looks over his shoulder; a cement mixer backs into the field, stopping just over the sewer entrance. Dean's driving.

"For that," Sam answers as he waves at Dean to stop the truck.

"Whoa!"

Dean gets out of the cab; he and Sam set up the cement mixer right over the entrance.

"You ripped off a cement truck?: Jo asks Dean as he puts his arm around me.

"I'll give it back," he says as we all stand there watching the cement pour on down.

"Well, that oughta keep him down there till hell freezes over," Dean says as he leans over and kisses me on the temple.

When we get back to the apartment complex, I am surprised to see Ellen standing in the hallway, arms crossed leaning against the wall. Sam and Jo look at one another and I hear Jo whisper, "Oh shit!"

I look up at Dean, who has his arm draped over my shoulders, giving him questioning stare. "So, um, Jo might have broke bad on her mom when Ellen found out the truth and insisted on staying here to help find you. Looks like that isn't going to go over well."

We approach Ellen and she glances at her daughter then fixes her gaze to me, "Nicole, I am happy you are safe."

"Thanks Ellen," but my reply is never acknowledged as she grabs her daughter's elbow and pulls her into the room.

"Joanna Beth Harvelle! I rightly forbade you from taking on this case. I gave it to them to keep you away from it. Want to explain to me why you thought it would be okay to just come here anyways? And to lie to me about it? Have Ash try to cover your tracks? That man's a genius, but he folds like a cheap suit."

"Mom, listen. I helped trap the ghost. I baited him down there and we left him completely encircled with salt. Then, they filled the sewer line with concrete! It was-"

"THEY USED YOU AS BAIT?!" Ellen screamed and then turned to the three of us. "AS BAIT? WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED. IT'S NOT THE FIRST TIME I'VE HEARD THAT FROM A WINCHESTER."

Once she is calmed down enough to realize that we are all okay and no one is injured or dead, it is decided that after we all clean-up we would hit the road and head back to the Roadhouse. Dean and I take the shower first; swearing to no funny business, just saving time and hot water.

Back at the Roadhouse, Ellen requests time to speak to her daughter alone so Sam, Dean and I gather around the Impala, waiting. Jo comes storming out of the Roadhouse and glares at us before stomping off.

"Jo?" Sam calls after her.

Jo stops and whips around. It turns out my dad had a partner on his last hunt. Funny, he usually worked alone; this guy did too, but... I guess my father figured he could trust him. Big mistake. Guy screwed up, got my dad killed."

"What does this have to do with—" Dean asks, confused at her outburst.

"It was your father, Dean."

"What?"

"Why do you think John never came back? Never told you about us? Because he couldn't look my mom in the eye after that, that's why. Just... just get out of here. Please, just leave. I never want to see any of you again."

We get into Baby and leave Jo standing in the middle of the lot.


	23. Solo Hunt

Two weeks. 14 days. It's been 14 days since I've heard from the Winchesters. After leaving the Roadhouse where Jo told us that John was the reason she lost her father, Dean had become withdrawn. The car ride back to Bobby's was semi-quiet, save for the ever-playing music droning through the speakers and Sam occasionally trying to start a conversation then being told by Dean he didn't want to talk about it, the trip was uneventful. When I leaned forward to wrap my arms around Dean's shoulders over the seat, he didn't relax like he usually did. He didn't exactly pull away but I could tell by his posture, even I couldn't calm his thoughts, whatever they were. Dean was just tense and agitated.

Back at Bobby's both of us try to talk to him, but Dean just walks away and isolates himself. I find him laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and join him. Neither spoke. I know he is working through what Jo had said and I desperately want to help him but he won't allow it. When I try to lace our fingers together, he pulls his hand away. I lose it.

"Dean?" I turn my head to look at him, trying to stave off the tears I know were seconds away from showing themselves. "Talk to me, please."

"There's nothing to say." And with that, he stands up and leaves the room.

The next morning they are gone. Bobby says they got wind of a case in Baltimore and left before daybreak. I am devastated. I lay in my bed and cry. He has left. Dean has left me and I don't know if I will ever see him again. I keep telling myself that eventually they'll return; Bobby's was unofficial home base. But the pain of heartbreak knowing that Dean has left with no much as a 'goodbye' or 'I'll be back' is overwhelming.

I wait a few days and then I text both him and Sam but so far, no replies. Both messages remain unopen. I don't know what I did or how I can fix it, IF I can fix it. My relationship with Dean Winchester looks to be over.

"Yea, yea. I understand. Okay, Donnie. I'll find someone else. You take care of what you're working on," Bobby says into the phone as I enter the kitchen. Hanging the device back into its cradle, he sighs and flips a page in the book in front of him.

"What's up old man?" I ask, opening the fridge and pulling out a beer.

"Got a case and no one to work it." He picks the phone up again and dials the number in front of him.

"Hey Kev. Interested in a case?" Bobby asks to whoever Kev is. "Oh okay. Didn't know they were that far South. Yea, keep me informed, so I can update the books. Yea. Talk soon."

"What's the case," I ask, wondering if I should try to help him find someone.

" are being murdered, mutilated inside locked homes. No signs of entry, no fingerprints. I'm thinking it's our type of case but can't find a damn hunter that isn't ass deep into their own hunt."

"I might know someone," I say meekly. What better way to get my mind of everything than a hunt, albeit, it'd be my first solo hunt. But you gotta start somewhere.

"Who," Bobby asks, still flipping pages in his book.

"Me."

That stops his flipping. He looks up at me with eyes wide. "You want to hunt? By yourself?"  
"Sure. It sounds like a simple ghost so salt and burn the bones. Voila. Done."

"Nic, I don't know. What if it's something bigger? Like a ghoul? A vengeful spirit?"  
"Ghoul, decapitation. Vengeful spirit, find whatever is anchoring it here and destroy it," I count off how to kill supernatural beings with my fingers."Bobby, I can do this. I need out of here, just for a bit."  
"Ok," he agrees and hands me the file. "First sign of trouble you call me, you hear? I'll head there myself if I have to."

"Yes sir," I salute and take the file to my room to familiarize myself with it.

Chicago, IL

I pull up to the apartment complex where the most recent victim lived and was murdered. Disguising myself as a rep for the security system company, I introduce myself to the landlady, Ms. Andrews.

"Thanks for letting me look around," I say as she opens the door to the apartment the victim, Meredith, resided.

"Well, the police said they were done with the place, so…. You said you were with the alarm company?"

"That's right." I smile down at her. She is a short, plump lady with her graying hair pulled back into a tight bun.

"Well, no offense, but your alarm's about as useful as boobs on a man." I laugh at that analogy. "Well, that's why I'm here. To see what went wrong and stop it from happening again. Now, ma'am, you found the body?"

"Yeah," she shudders and grimaces.

"Right after it happened?" I ask as I scan the room. There is a blood stain with varied pools of blood around it on the rug in the middle of the room.

"No. Few days later. Meredith's work called—she hadn't shown up. I knocked on the door. That's when I noticed the smell."

"Any windows open? Any sign of break-in?" I ask, as I step over to a window, surveying that it is indeed locked.

"No, windows were locked, front door was bolted. Chain was on the door, we had to cut it just to get in."

"And the alarm was still on?" I turn and look at her.

"Like I said, bang-up job your company's doin'." I can only smile at that.

"Mmhmm. You see any overturned furniture, broken glass, signs of struggle?" I ask and get my answer as the landlady shakes her head.

" Everything was in perfect condition—except Meredith."

"And what condition was Meredith in?" I inquire as I kneel down and inspect the blood stain.

"Meredith was all over. In pieces. The guy who killed her must have been some kind of a whack job. But I tell you, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said a wild animal did it." I stand back up and grab my toolbox and pretend to head toward the security system box on the wall.

Ma'am, do you mind if I take some time? Give this place a once-over?"

"Oh, well, go right ahead. Knock yourself out," she says and turns to leave, closing the door behind her.

I take my EMF reader out of my toolbox and turn it on. It immediately starts whining and all five lights illuminate. "Yahtzee."

Looking at the blood stain on the rug again, I notice it looks to be a pattern made up with the separate pools of blood. I grab a roll of black electrical tape out of my toolbox and begin piecing the pools together. When I'm finish, there is a definite symbol there.

I pull my phone out of the pocket of my jumpsuit and dial Bobby.

"Whatcha got kid?"

"Definitely supernatural. EMF off the charts. Blood splatters create a symbol I don't recognize. I'm going to take a picture and send to you when I get back to the hotel."

"Ok, Nic? Be careful."

"You know it."

Back in my hotel room, I send the picture of the symbol to Bobby and while I wait for his phone call, I analyze the file on the case some more. Meredith, a waitress at a local establishment was the second victim in the city. The first had been a banker, Ben Swardstrom. So, nothing in common there; no connections to one another. They lived in two totally different worlds.

When Bobby calls back, he has the exact information I need. ""So, turns out it's Zoroastrian. Very, very old school, like two thousand years before Christ. It's a sigil for a Daeva," Bobby says without the pleasantries of a Hello.

"What's a Daeva?" I ask. I have never heard of it.

"It translates to "demon of darkness". Zoroastrian demons, they're savage, animalistic, you know, nasty attitudes—kind of like, uh, demonic pit bulls. These Daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured."

"So, someone's controlling it?" I ask but also state.

"Yeah, that's what I'm sayin'. And, from what I gather, it's pretty risky business, too. These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos," Bobby tells me and then sighs. "Nic, I think this is bigger than we thought. Do you want me to find you some help?"

"Psh, no!" I decline his offer quickly. "So, what do they look like?"

"Well, nobody knows, but nobody's seen 'em for a couple of millennia. I mean, summoning a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think you've got a major player in town," Bobby tells me.

"Yep, sounds like. Hey, do me a favor. Look up Ben Swardstrom and Meredith Calloway. See if you can find any connection between them at all."

Bobby calls back about an hour later with news. "Ben spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born there. He was born in Lawrence. And Meredith, she was adopted. And guess where she's from..."

"Lawrence." I say, then stop when a thought hits me. "Hey Bobby, you think this has anything to do with the yellow-eyed demon? The one John says killed his wife?"

"I don't know. Heard anything from the boys?"

"Nope." I say, popping the p sound.

"You two left it in a bad way didn't you?" Bobby says, his voice soft.

"Don't really want to talk about it Bobby," I plead. "I just want to gank whatever the hell this is."

"Okay," Bobby says. "I'm here for you, ya know."

"Any idea how to kill this, uh, daeva?" I ask him, wanting to change the subject.

"I ain't found anything yet but don't worry, I'll keep looking," Bobby assures me.

We end our conversation and I look at my phone screen. Still no word from Dean or Sam. I have no idea what went wrong where but this radio silence is starting to piss me off. If they knew I was working a case that probably involved the demon who attacked their mother, they'd want to be involved. I consider sending Sam another message but the first one I sent had yet to be opened so I close my phone and go back to trying to figure out how to find and kill the Daeva.

I track the Daeva to a warehouse and sneak in to investigate. The elevator lift is broken so I climb the wooden sides up to the floor above and can see what looks like some sort of altar in the dimly lit room. Looking around to see if anyone else was near, I took a chance and climbed into the room. Walking over to the wall that the table is on, I notice a silver bowl filled with what looks like blood and in the middle is a mirror laying face up with the same symbol I found in Meredith's apartment on it. "What the hell?" I ask myself.

I hear something behind me and as I turn I notice a shadow on the wall coming towards me. The shadow figure is tall, like 7 or 8 foot with long arms that end in five claws. I am suddenly pushed to the left and fall down, sliding across the floor until my head connects with a stack of crates. I watch as the shadow approaches me but before it actually gets to me, I can feel its talons cutting into my skin. I have lacerations on my arms and legs and a nasty gash on my temple.

I grab the gun from my waistband and start shooting toward where the monster would be to create that shadow on the wall. With each shot, the invisible creature is lit up but not long enough for me to get a good look at it.

When my ammo is gone, I crawl toward my bag and grab a flare. Lighting it up, I toss it into the middle of the room. Luckily, I tossed it right where the beast is standing and it goes up in flames, screeching and screaming the whole time. I slump back against the stack of crates, catching my breath' watching my attacker burn to nothingness.

Back at the hotel, I clean my wounds thanking the Heavens I didn't need stitches. I don't think I could stitch myself. I'd always had Sam or Dean do it for me. Shaking my head of the thoughts of my ex-whatever he was and his brother, I pack my bag and head back to Sioux Falls.

I pull up to Bobby's and there sits the Impala. At first, the sight of the car excites me but then I remember the way things ended and I begin to dread going inside. I'm tired, dirty and just in no mood to deal with whatever alibi those two boys have come up with. I'm to the point that I just don't care anymore. Something happened between us trapping Holmes' spirit in the drain in Philly and getting back here but I have no idea what. I'm tired of trying to figure it out.

I get out of the driver's seat of the car Bobby had let me take and walk to the trunk to get my bag. I hear footsteps quickly approaching me so I shut the lid and am met with the green eyes I love. Dean wraps his arms around me tightly. "Nic, what the hell were you thinking? Going on a hunt alone? I've been worried sick!"

I pull out of his embrace. "You?! You were worried sick? I've only been gone three days and I kept in contact with Bobby. He knew I was okay. Try not hearing from someone for almost three weeks. THREE FUCKING WEEKS DEAN! I messaged you both and didn't get a single reply. And you just left me. Like I was nothing. Like I meant less than the dirt on your shoe."

By this time, tears are streaming down my face and are blurring my vision that so I can barely make out his vision is obscured so I wipe my eyes and dry my cheeks.

"It hurt, Dean. It hurt when I woke up and you were gone," I whispered, the fight gone out of me. "After all we've been through these last few months, you pulled away from me and just left." Pulling my pack onto my shoulder, I turned and walked into Bobby's leaving Dean standing there at the boot of my car.


	24. Sam's Puppy Dog Look

I rushed into the house and headed straight upstairs to my room, slamming the door behind me. How dare he say he had been worried about me! I wasn't the one who left in the still of early morning hours and didn't contact anyone for three weeks. I had talked to Bobby at least once a day the whole time I was gone. Bobby knew where I was, what I was doing, _HOW_ I was.

Groaning, I threw my bag onto the end of the bed and turned to get some clean clothes. I hadn't had a shower in all the time I was gone and I was looking forward to washing the hunt for and the kill of the Daeva off.

The hot water did wonders for my sore muscles but not the agony I felt over whole situation caused me nothing but agony and heartache. I was upset that he could just leave me behind without a thought when he knew I was worried about him. He fucking _KNEW!_ That's what really upset me. He knew I was concerned about him, after hearing Jo blame John for her father's death. I knew that was going to be a blow to Dean's memory of his dad. Dean had looked up to John and to hear that his own father had aided in getting someone killed, had orchestrated Bill Travellers death had to greatly tarnish John Winchester's reputation in his eldest son's eyes.

I had been willing to help him through it, just like I helped him through his father's death but instead he had pulled away from my help and left, not contacting me or Bobby for three weeks. So, no I wasn't going to just let him waltz back in, pretend that his absence had no effect on me and be happy that he had been worried. 'Yea, right. He doesn't know what worried is!' I thought to myself as I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair.

Getting dressed, I headed downstairs to find something to eat. In my rush back to Bobby's after slaying the evil entity, I neglected to feed myself and my stomach was on the warpath.

Sam and Bobby sat at the table, more books covering every inch of the wooden top. Four eyes followed me as I walked to the fridge to forage for sustenance. I could feel them boring into me but I ignored it. I was not in the mood to talk to anyone.

Sam apparently didn't catch on as he spoke. "So, a Daeva huh?" I continued to ignore him as I threw ingredients on the counter to make a sandwich. "Nic, don't you think that was dangerous? To take on a shadow demon alone?"

Turning I looked at Sam and answered, "I got the son of a bitch, didn't I?" The venom in my voice was palpable and I just didn't care. I was almost as mad at Sam as I was at Dean. Sam had neglected to answer my text also. So, no he wasn't getting off easy either. "Why do you even care Samuel? You left me too! You didn't even consider letting me know what was going on and that you were okay. For two weeks I sat here worried. Wondering if I would ever see you or your brother again! So don't come to me pretending to care because it's damned apparent neither you or your brother do. Just leave me alone, please." Plating my sandwich and grabbing my beer I looked at Bobby, "I'll be in my room." At his nod I returned upstairs.

It was no surprise when, a few hours later, there was a knock on my door. I was laying in my bed, playing a game on my phone. "Can I come in?" Sam's sweet and smooth-as-honey voice sounded through the door. "Nic, I can explain. Please just let me?" I seriously considered pretending to be asleep but as soon as he cracked the door and poked his head in, his puppy dog eyes done me in. There wasn't a person, male or female, who could deny Sam Winchester's pleading eyes.

I sat up on my bed, pulling my legs under me and patted the mattress for him to join me. If he thought he had an explanation for their absence and complete radio silence, far be it for me not to give him that chance. I didn't have to believe whatever excuse he had and I sure as hell didn't have to accept and forgive them, but I could at least hear him out.

"I know we left and didn't tell you and that's on both of us, Dean and me. But i come across a suspicious murder in Baltimore and we took off to check it out. I didn't know until we were there that you and Dean were on the outs or whatever," he began explaining.

"What was the case, Sam?" I asked.

"A lawyer, Tony Giles and his wife Karen murdered by what we thought was a vengeful spirit. Dean went to investigate the wife's murder at the scene of the crime and was caught. The cops tried to pin the murders on him. They came to the motel and snagged me too. We spent half a day and a night in separate interrogation rooms." Sam looked at me and could tell I was following along with his story.

"They took our phones, Nic. That's why we never answered you. We never got the message."

"How'd you get away? Are you on the most wanted list again?" I asked, actually curious as to how they got out of the murder charge.

"The vengeful spirit was actually a girl who was killed by the detective adamant about pinning the charges on Dean. He was a dirty cop and he was trying to hide his misdeeds," Sam continued. "Thankfully, his partner ended up believing us as the spirit visited her too and together we salt and burned her bones and she helped me get Dean away from her partner who was wanting to extradite him to St. Louis. He had actually taken Dean out of the station and was going to kill him when we caught up with him. She let us go in return for saving her life but I guess our phones are still in lock-up in Maryland. We actually had to heist the Impala from the impound yard."

My face scrunched thinking of Baby being in an impound lot and the boys having to actually steal her back. Dean had probably been beyond pissed! Sam seen the look on my face and laughed. "Yep, that's the same face Dean had!" I laughed along with him even though the thought of Dean being arrested for murder broke my heart and made the pit of my stomach heavy. Yes, Dean killed monsters for a living but the Dean I knew would never willingly kill another human.

"Ok, Sammy. I'll give you that. Can't believe yall got busted for murder! But I'm still pissed at your brother," I told him, patting his hand that was on his knee. "He pulled away from me when I just wanted to help him. Help both of you. I can't imagine how it felt to hear those words Jo spewed."

"Yea. I knew Dad wasn't a good man but to hear that he used another hunter as bait was a surprise," Sam confided. "He and I didn't get along. He actually hated that I left for Stanford. Told me if I left not to come back. But Dean, Dean looked up to him. Followed every order issued. No questions asked. For him to have heard that Dad was so heinous to use another human to try to get information on the demon that killed our mom, I know it had to hurt. To not only meet but know the family that was left behind, that's got to be hitting him pretty hard."

"Sam, I understand that. I do, but I was here for him. I was here to be his comfort, his rock but he pulled away and told me there was nothing to say when I could tell he was hurt and angry," I tried explaining to Sam. "And then he just left as if I was nothing."

"Just give him a chance, Nic. Talk to him. Let him tell you how he feels. Okay?"

After my talk with Sam, I decided to take his advice and walked outside in search of Dean. He was in the garage, working under Baby's hood. Stepping up to the front fender of the black beauty, I spoke.

"Hey Dean. Can we talk?"


	25. Good Ole Sammy

Dean stands up, wiping his hands on a grease rag. "Why? So you can yell at me some more?" He asks, turning his back to me and walking over to a tool box. I follow.

"I'm sorry for that, " I answer calmly. I hadn't come out to argue. I truthfully want to get past this predicament. "I'm actually grateful you were worried and I am totally thankful that you are okay."

Turning his attention to me, Dean folds his arms and says, "Well, you couldn't tell by the way you acted, Nicole." I sigh, knowing he only uses my whole name if he is pissed or frightened. And, I can tell this time he is pissed.

"I really don't want to fight, Dean. Okay, yes I'll admit I could've handled that differently but I hadn't heard from you in three weeks. I thought you had left for good. I messaged both you and Sam and never got an answer. I thought you were tired of me and you didn't want to tell me and Sam didn't know how to tell me so you were ignoring me," I tell him honestly.

His eyes take on a softer expression and his shoulders slump.

"I was arrested for-" he begins but I interrupt.

"I know. Sam explained it to me."

Dean chuckles, "Good ole Sammy, huh?"

I smile. "Yea, good ole Sammy trying to fix us because we don't know how to." I walk up to him and put my hands on his arms. "Dean, I just wanted to help you with everything Jo told you. But you pulled away from me and then left. I thought you were through with me, with us."

"Baby, it had nothing to do with that; not in the slightest. I promise," Dean begins, trying to explain his actions toward me before he and his brother disappeared for three weeks. "I had stuff to work through on my own. Believe me, if I thought you could've helped, I would have let you. See, when Jo told me that Dad was the reason she lost her father at such a young age, it hit me hard. "  
"You have feelings for her, don't you?" I ask, literally feeling my heart breaking. "You want to try a relationship with her because you feel guilty about what your dad did. So you're going to make it up to her by giving her what she wants, you."  
"God, no, Nic! I don't see her that way. Never have. I've told you that. But guilt, I don't know if that's what I feel. It wasn't me that used her father. But I do know what it feels like to know you are the reason someone is dead.

"A year ago, I almost died. I had a heart attack after being electrocuted killing a demon. I was dying, my heart was severely damaged. Doc only gave me a month to live. Sam heard about a preacher who supposedly performed miracles. The miracles came from a reaper that was being summoned by the preacher's wife. The reaper was finding people and killing them and sending their lives to the people this so-called faith healer chooses to heal. Whatever is wrong with the diseased person, the minute they are healed someone dies of the exact same thing. I'm the reason Marshall Hall, a 27 -year-old athlete just keels over? From a heart attack at the same exact moment I was healed. It wasn't coincidence."

"Dean, that wasn't your fault either," I tell him. "That was the preacher's wife's doing. She was the one who summoned the reaper. All those deaths are on her." I bend down to look into his eyes when he hangs his head. I wanted to maintain eye contact so he could see what I was saying was the truth. "Hey, just think of all the ones you saved by being able to stop the reaper from taking more souls for her to keep up the facade. You are a good man, Dean Winchester."

A small smile crosses his lips before he raises his head and looks at me. "How mad are you going to be when I tell you we went back to the Roadhouse?"

"What? Why?"

"I had to go back, Nic. I had to apologize to Ellen. I just couldn't not do that," he explains. "Even after all that, she's helped us with tracking down others like Sammy. She's given is advice on hunts when we were stumped on cases. She's the one who told Sammy not to trust Gordon. And she was right."

"I understand," I tell him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His encircle my waist.

"Are we good babe?" I asked him, which earns me a full smile.

"Yea, we're good," he whispers as he lowers his head and his lips meet mine.

That night, after almost a month of sleeping alone, Dean joins me in bed and I snuggle up to his side, placing my head on his chest. "G'night Dean."

"Night, Nic." I am almost out when I feel his lips touch my hair.

Later that night, or really early morning, I am awakened by someone whispering my name. I open my eyes and turn my head to see Sam kneeling by the bed, a look of terror on his face. Dean is above me, snoring lowly.

"What is it, Sam?" I whisper, trying to not to wake my boyfriend.

"I need to talk to you."

Untangling my legs from Dean's and wriggling out of his grasp is a task but I am finally able to do it; thankful that I had went to sleep fully clothed since Sam is right there when I stand up.

He grabs my wrist and drags me out of the room and downstairs. In the kitchen he let me go and starts pacing.

"Sam! What's wrong?" His behavior is beginning to worry me.

"I had another vision, Nic. It's bad."

"Okay," I tell him. "Let's sit down and try to figure it out." I pull a chair out from the table and sit down, him mimicking me.

"What did you see, Sam?"

"Dean," he says.

"You saw your brother?" I ask, confused. Why seeing his brother in a vision was bad is being my comprehension.

"It wasn't just him," Sam says, running his fingers through his hair. "It's what he was doing."

"And what's that?" I reluctantly ask, letting ideas of Dean with other women run through my mind. To me, right now, that's the worse he can do. And I really don't think I want to hear that Sam saw a vision of it since so far all of Sam's vision have come true.

"Nic, I think he shoots an innocent man."


	26. Another Vision

"What do you mean he kills an innocent man?" I'm shocked to hear this because I can't see Dean doing something so careless. "Why did he kill him? Why do you think he was innocent?" The questions keep bubbling out of my mouth. I will do anything to prove that Dean isn't that capricious.

"I don't know, Nic." Sam tells me. "He thought there was something inside him."

That makes more sense to me. If a demon was inside the man, yea I can see Dean killing him if we can't exorcise the evil out.

"Where did this take place, Sam? When?"

"Rivergrove. And I don't know, soon?"  
I grab Sam's laptop and search for Rivergrove. "There are only two towns in the US called Rivergrove. Which one Sam?"

Sam hangs his head and closes his eyes. "Look up Crater Lake."  
"Oregon. Crater Lake is in Oregon, which is lso where one of the Rivergrove's is," I reveal.

Now that we have a location, I go up to wake Dean. It's 6 a.m. so I know he'd be waking up soon anyhow.

Sam's GPS on his phone alerts us to continue driving on the road we are on; Dean behind the wheel and I'm leaned up on the back of the front seat watching Sam research more about Rivergrove, Oregon. Nothing is coming up as suspicious activity; no unknown deaths, no abnormal disappearances.

"How come you're so sure it's the one in Oregon?" Dean asks, taking his eyes off the road long enough to glance at Sam and then me.

"There was a picture. Crater Lake," Sam says

"Okay, what else?"

"I saw a dark room, some people, and a guy tied to a chair," Sam explains his vision.

"And I ventilated him?" Dean questions his brother.

"Yeah. You thought there was something inside him."

"What, a demon? Was he possessed?"

"I don't know," Sam says, and by the tone in his voice I can tell he is becoming agitated at all the questions.

"Well, all your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow ...so was there any black smoke? Did we try to exorcise it?"

"No. Nothing, you just plugged him, that's it. "

"Well, I'm sure I had a good reason," Dean defends himself.

"I sure hope so," I say, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I'm not gonna waste an innocent man. "

I raises my eyebrows at his protest. We both know that Sam's vision most likely always come true.

"I wouldn't!" Dean insists.

"I never said you would," I tell him. "We don't know what this is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what."

When we get to Rivergrove we pull onto Main Street and park in front of a billboard advertising Crater Lake. I look at Sam and he nods. We see a man sitting on a porch so we decide to ask him about the guy from the vision.

"Morning," Dean says as we approach the man.

"Good morning. Can I help you?"

"Yeah," We pull out our badges. "Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Vicki Blue. U.S. Marshals.

"What's this about?" he asks, eyeballing us.

"We're looking for someone," Dean tells him

"A young man, early twenties," Sam says. "He has a thin scar right below his hairline.," Sam motions to the area the scar would be.

"What'd he do?" the man inquires

"Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us," I tell the gentleman.

"Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything; well, not yet. I think maybe you know who he is . . . Master Sergeant. My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal," Dean says with a smile on his face and pride in his voice.

"What company?"

"Echo-2-1," Dean replies.

"So can you help us?" Sam asks.

The man hesitates then speaks, "Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean."

"Oh, I'm sure he does. Um. You know where he lives?" I ask.

"With his family, up Aspen Way. "

"Thank you," I tell him, turning to follow the boys back to the Impala.

As we are walking down the street, Sam clumsily bumps into a light pole. He stops and looks at it. "Guys."

Dean and I turn back to him and see him pointing at something on the pole. On closer inspection, I see the word CROATOAN carved into the wood.

"Croatoan?" Dean asks.

"Yeah," Sam says and Dean looks at him blankly.

"Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?" Sam asks incredulously.

"Yeah! Shots heard 'round the world, How bills becomes laws . . ."

I laugh and tell him, "Honey, that's not school, that's Schoolhouse Rock."

"Whatever."

"Roanoke was one of the first English colonies in America, late 1500s?" I explain.

"Oh yeah, yeah, I do remember that. The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan."

"Yeah. And I mean, there were theories — Indian raid, disease, but nobody knows what really happened. They were all just gone. I mean, wiped out overnight," Sam continues the explanation.

"You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean - " I look to Sam.

"Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?"

"Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so . . ."Dean says.

"We should get help. Bobby, uh, Ellen maybe?" Sam offers.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Dean says, pulling out his cell phone, then frowning at it. "I don't have a signal."

Sam and I check our phones, getting the same result, no signal.

I point to a payphone and we make out way to it. Dean picks it up and clicks the receiver several times.

"Line's dead., he says, hanging up."I'll tell you one thing. If I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step. "

We make our way to the Tanner residence on Aspen Way, a cabin-esque house in the middle of nowhere. As we approach the door, Sam reaches out and knocks. A teenage boy answers.

"Yeah?"  
Dean flashes his badge. "We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here, right?"  
"Yeah, he's my brother. "  
"Can we talk to him?" Dean asks.  
"Oh, he's not here right now," the boy informs us.  
"Do you know where he is?"  
"Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake."  
"Your parents home?" Sam speaks up.  
"Yeah, they're inside."  
"Jake? Who is it?" a male voice comes through the house.  
"Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir, we're looking for your son Duane," Dean explains to the older gentleman.  
"Wh-why? He's not in trouble, is he?"  
"No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all."  
"When's he due back from his trip?" I try to get answers by turning on my feminine charm.  
"I'm not sure."  
"Well, maybe your wife knows?" Sam inquires.  
"No, I don't know, she's not here right now," Mr. Tanner tells us.  
"Your son said she was."  
"Did I?" Jake says, with a smirk on his face. Something about this kid rubs me the wrong way.  
"She's getting groceries. So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?" Mr. Tanner explains his wife's absence.  
"Oh no, we'll just check in with you later," I say, reaching out to shake Mr. Tanner's hand.  
We turn and walk down the steps as the door shuts behind us.  
"That was kind of creepy, right? A little too Stepford?" Dean says, looking to me and his brother.  
"Big time," I tell him.

We decide to look into this family further and the three of us sneak around the side of the house to see if we can find out why they are giving off such a weird vibe. At a window, we crouch down and Dean peeks into the open window as we hear Jake say, "It's okay, Mom. It's not gonna hurt." He grabs his gun and takes off toward the back door. Sam and I look at each other quickly and then follow Dean our own guns drawn. Inside, Mr. Tanner comes at us with a knife and Dean shoots him, killing him while Jake takes off and jumps out the window. Sam runs after him and I take off outside to try and cut him off. Jake is in the woods and gone before I even make it to the bottom step. Going back inside, the boys are working on untying Mrs. Tanner so I squat in front of her, telling her it'll be okay.

"Hello? Hello, we need a doctor here," I yell as Sam helps Mrs. Tanner inside the doctor's office. A blonde woman in scrubs comes running out and gasps, "Mrs. Tanner, what happened?

"She's been attacked," Sam tells the nurse.

"Doctor Lee?" the nurse calls out.

Another blonde, older woman who I assume is Dr. Lee rushes in. "Bring her in.

"Okay.

As the nurse lead Sam away to take Mrs. Tanner to an examination room, Dean enters, carrying the body of Mr. Tanner, covered in a canvas.

"Is that —," Dr. Lee asks.

"Mr. Tanner." Dean confirms

"Was he attacked too?"

"Uh... no, actually, he did the attacking and then he got himself shot," I tell her.

"Shot?" the doctor questions, surprised and startled.

"Yeah." Dean answers, solemnly.

"And who are you?" Dr. Lee demands.

"U.S. Marshal. I'd show you my badge, but uh . . ." Dean says and then motions toward the dead body he is carrying.

"Oh. Sorry. Bring him back here. "

"Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?" the doctor asks Mrs. Tanner as she is finishing dressing the wound on her shoulder. Sam, Dean and I stand off to the side but listen intently.

Mrs. Tanner nods. "They beat me. Tied me up."

"Beverly, do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency? " the doctor inquires.

"No, of course not. I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next, they had the devil in them," she says, beginning to cry.

We share a look between the three of us at her last words.

"We gotta talk," Dean says, exiting the room. Sam and I follow.

"Those guys were whacked out of their gourds."

"What do you think? Multiple demons, mass possession?"

"If it is a possession there could be more. I mean, God knows how many, it could be like a friggin' Shriner convention," Dean says, wiping a hand down his face.

"Great," I say, sullenly. A town full of demons, just what we always wanted.

"Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside," Dean says, looking through the window into the room that Mrs. Tanner and the doctor are in.

"I don't know, man. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs," Sam tries to explain away the idea of a demon-filled town.

"Well, whatever. Something turned him into a monster. And you know if you woulda taken out the other one there'd be one less to worry about."

"I'm sorry, all right? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid!" Sam defends

"No, it was an "it". Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam. "

"Hey, no!" I whisper-yell, looking at Dean. "That kid disappeared into the wood before either of us could get a shot off!"

We are interrupted when Dr. Lee stalks out of the lab. "How's the patient?" Sam turns to her and asks.

"Terrible! What the hell happened out there?"

"We don't know," I tell her honestly.

Dr. Lee turns to Dean, "Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor. "

"We didn't have a choice," he tries explaining to her.

"Maybe so, but we need the county Sheriff. I need the coroner-"

"Phones are down," Sam tells her.

"I know, I tried, she responds then looks at Dean hopeful. "Tell me you have a police radio in the car?"

"Yeah we do," Dean lies. "But it crapped out just like everything else. "

"I don't understand what is happening. "

"How far is it to the next town?" Dean asks her.

"It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder."

All right, we're gonna go down there, see if we can find some help." Dean says, placing his hand on my shoulder. "Our partner will stick around, keep you guys safe."

"Safe from what?" Dr. Lee asks, timidly.

"We'll get back to you on that.," I say, turning to follow Dean out of the building.

"Dean, what do you think is going on?" I ask him as we drive down the road, passing a sign thanking us for visiting Rivergrove.

"I don't know Nic," he genuinely answers. "But something was making the Tanners attack each other. I just hope we can get the help we need and get this shit under control."

We come up on a sedan stopped in the middle of the road, no one around. Dean looks at me and, pulling his gun from his jeans, opens the door to get out of the car. I follow suit and we slowly approach the vehicle. I notice the blood before anything else. "Oh god! There's baby seat covered in blood!" I cover my mouth to try to stave off the nauseous feeling I have. Who would murder a baby?

Dean gazes through the broken driver side window and then glances down. He bends over and comes back up with a large knife, tinged with blood.

We get back in the Impala once we figure out that the family the abandoned car belonged to was nowhere near. We come up on to a bridge that is blocked by a roadblock consisting of several cars and a half-dozen locals with guns. I notice one of the crew is Jake Tanner, the boy who got away from me and Sam. Dean stops the car, frowning. Suddenly a loud bang sound throughout the car. Someone had hit the roof of the car. A man appears in the window of my side at the same time one appears on Dean's.

"Oh-ho-ho. Hey," Dean greets the newcomers, glancing back and forth between them.

"Sorry. Road's closed." The man on Dean's side says.

"Yeah, I can see that. What's up?"

"Quarantine," the one from my side grunts.

"Quarantine? What is it?"

"Don't know. Something going around out there."

"Uh-huh. Who told you that?" Dean asks.

"County Sheriff," the man snarls.

"Is he here? " This whole time I am paying attention to Dean and the man in his window that I don't notice the man on my side open my door.

"No. He called." The man tells Dean and then looks at the guy on my side and nods slightly. "Say, why don't you get out of the car and we'll talk a little?"

"Well, you are a -" Dean begins but cuts off when he realizes the man on my side has a hold on my arm, pulling me out. "Hey, hands off my girlfriend, you dick!"

Dean puts the car into a quick reverse; the man grabs his collar and is dragged along. The man holding me steps back and I am almost pulled out of the car before Dean swings the car around, shaking the his man off and reaches over, grabbing my shirt sleeve, pulling me into him. I cry into his shoulder; freaking out, with tears pooled in my eyes as we zoom away.

I calm down and slide back to the passenger side, wiping the tears from my eyes and off my cheeks.

"You okay, baby?" Dean asks, glancing over at me.

"Yea," I answer him softly.

Dean drives back into town and suddenly the man we spoke to when we first hit town steps in our path, pointing a rifle at the car. Dean slams on the brakes.

"Hands where I can see 'em!" the man yells.

"Okay!" we both say, holding our hands up.

"Get out of the car!" he motions for Dean to get out. "Out of the car!" He points the gun at me, motioning for me to do the same as Dean.

We open our the doors and get out slowly. "All right, easy there, big guy," Dean says calmly.

As he stands, Dean pulls out a handgun and points it at the man.

"All right, put it down!" Dean demands.

"Lower it now!" The Master Sergeant insists.

I pull my gun while Dean has the man distracted. "Put it down!"

"Are you one of 'em?" he asks us, apprehensively,

"No! Are you?" Dean responds.

"No!"

"You could be lying!"

"So could you!"

"All right! All right. We could do this all day, all right? Let's just uh, let's take it easy before we kill each other," I say, lowering my gun.

The man relaxes slightly. "What's going on with everybody?"

"We don't know," Dean answers, loosening up his stance.

"My neighbor . . . Mr. Rogers, he —"

I giggle, "You've got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?"

"Not anymore," he tells us. "He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one, I mean, it's happening to everyone. "

"We're heading over to the Doc's place, there's still some people left," I tell him.

"No, no way. I'm getting the hell out."

"There's no way out, they got the bridge covered," Dean explains. "Come on, come back with us."

"I don't believe you. "

"Fine, stay here, be my guest. "

The Master Sergeant hesitates, then changes his mind. He pulls out a handgun and points it toward us as he heads to the passenger's side; Dean still has his gun up, following the man's movements.

I slide across the seat and am cushioned between them, a gun pointed toward me from either side. "Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive."

"I'm Mark," the man introduces himself. "You ain't really FBI, are ya?"

"No," I admit to him. "I'm Nicole Barker. This is Dean Winchester. Now can we please lower our weapons?"

We pull up outside the doctor's office and get out. Mark holds out his hand to help me exit while Dean rushes to the locked door and knocks. "Sammy? Open up!"

Sam unlocks the door and lets us in. "Did you get to a phone?"

No. They got the road blocked." He turns to Mark. "We're gonna have a word. Doc's inside."

"What's going on out there, Dean?

"Man, I don't know, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man. I mean, Sarge is the only sane person we could find."

"What are we dealing with, do you know?" I ask Sam.

"Yeah. Doc thinks it's a virus.

"Okay, great. What do you think?

"I think she's right. And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The uh, the virus? Leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.

"A demonic virus?" I ask, terrified.

"More like demonic germ warfare. At least it explains why I've been having visions.

"It's like a Biblical plague.

"Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Dean. I've been poring through Dad's journal, found something about the Roanoke colony."

"And?"

"Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Resheph. A demon of plague and pestilence."

"Well, that, that's terrific. Why here, why now?"

"I have no idea. Who knows how far this thing can spread?" "We gotta get out of here, we gotta warn people."

"They've got one! In here!" Mark yells at us from inside the lab.

We take off toward the lab.

"What do you mean?" Dean queries.

"The wife. She's infected," Sam tells us.

"We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get," Mark hurriedly reveals.

Dean barely hesitates before pulling out his gun and stalking into the lab.

Mr.s Tanner begs for her life as Dean points his gun at her, while Mark and Sam and I huddle at the door.

Dean looks to his brother. "You sure she's one of them?"

Sam nods. "She attacked us while you were gone."

Dean steps forward and fires twice. I glance up at Mark as he turns away and notices the tears in his eyes.

We hide out in the doctor's lab, discussing ways to get out of here alive. Sam offers trying to get to the Roadhouse to warn others of whatever this is we are dealing with, but that idea gets knocked quickly when Mark informs us that the citizens are good with firearms and unless we have some sort of explosives in our arsenal, we probably don't stand much of a chance getting away. We all are disappo8nted to realize this fate.

An unexpected frantic pounding on the door makes us all jump."Hey! Let me in, let me in! Please!"

Mark gets up and peeks through the drawn shades.

"It's Duane Tanner!"


	27. Bad News

Mark walks over and opens the door, letting Duane in. He has a backpack and is limping. "Thank god," Duane sighs.  
"Duane, you okay?" Mark asks him, noticing the limp.  
"That's the guy that I, uh, *clicks tongue*?" Dean whispers to Sam, but I overhear and the terror grips me. This is Sam's vision coming true.

"Yeah," Sam answers, bleakly.

"Who else is in here?" Duane asks, looking between Sam, Dean and I, and Mark. When he doesn't get a response, he moves to get up.  
Dean grabs his arm. "Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, chief. Hey Doc! Give Duane a good once-over, would you?"  
Dr. Lee leads us into the lab.  
"Who are you?" Duane inquires, eyeing us."Never mind who we are," Dean retorts. "Doc."  
"Yeah, okay." Dr. Lee begins examining the newcomer.

"Duane. Where you been?" Mark asks.  
"On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon," Duane replies. "I . ." he pauses, swallowing audibly. "I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?"  
Dean turns to me and Sam, attempting a joking tone, "Awkward . . . " I roll my eyes and Sam gives his perfect bitch face.  
Duane is sitting on a stool letting the doctor continue her exam. I notice his left leg has a deep gash in it.  
"You're bleeding," I state. All eyes are on Duane as we take in his disheveled appearance.  
"Where'd you get that?" Dean demands.  
"I was running, I must have tripped," Duane tells us. I want to believe him but there is just something about the young man. I can pin point it, but he is giving off odd vibes.  
"Tie him up, there's rope in there," Dean instructs.  
"Wait . . .," Duane says, fear evident in his voice.  
Dean pulls his gun, points it at Duane.  
"Stay still!"  
"I'm sorry, Duane, he's right. We've gotta be careful," Mark explains to Duane.  
"Careful? About what?"  
"Did they bleed on you?" Dean asks the,question on everyone's mind.

"No, what the hell? No!" The query confusing him.  
"Doc? Any way to know for sure, any test?" Sam turns to the doctor.  
"I've studied Beverly's blood work backwards and forwards."  
"My mom!" Duane screams.  
"It took three hours for the virus to incubate," Dr, Lee explains. "The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so . . . no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns."  
"Dean, I gotta talk to you. Now." Sam tells his brother and then looks pointedly at me.  
Dean glances at Mark, who nods. Dean, Sam and I leave the lab.

"Sit in that chair," Mark requests of the young man.

As soon as we were out of earshot Sam turned to us, "This is my vision, Dean. It's happening."  
"Yeah, I figured," Dean agreed.  
"You can't kill him, all right? Not yet. We don't know if he's infected or not."  
"Well, I think we're pretty damn sure. Guy shows up out of nowhere, he's got a cut on his leg, his whole family's infected?"  
"All right, then we should keep him tied up, and we should wait and see," I tell the boys  
"For what? For him to Hulk out and infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance," Dean scoffs at my suggestion.  
He tries to push past Sam, but Sam stops him with a hand on his chest.

"Hey look, man, I'm not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job and you know that," Dean says, looking up at his brother.  
"It's supposed to be tough, Dean. We're supposed to struggle with this, that's the whole point," Sam tries to reason with him.  
"What does that buy us?" Dean scoffs at his brother's logic  
"A clear conscience, for one!" I say, trying to rationalize with him. He can't just go in there half-cocked, ready to shoot.  
"Well, it's too late for that," he tells me, a hint of aggravation in his voice.  
"What the hell's happened to you? Why are you fighting us on this?" I yell at him. His attitude is beginning to make me furious. It's like he doesn't even care that that is just a human in there, someone's son.  
"What?" Dean shouts, oblivious to my agitation and his being unreasonable.  
"You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care! You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell, you know what? You're acting like one of those things out there," Sam yells at him, pointing toward the exit.  
"Mm-hmm," I hum in agreement.  
Dean looks at me, almost apologetic then pushes past Sam. Sam tries to stop him again but Dean hurls him against the far wall. I run over to check on Sam and look up to chastise Dean for trying to hurt Sam. Why can't he see that we are just looking out for him.I watch as he goes back into the hall and locks the door behind him.  
"Hey!" I get up and,walk to the door,rattling the lock. "Open the damn door, Dean! Don't do it, Dean! Don't!" Sam is now standing behind me, eyes hard and locked on his brother.  
Dean drops the clip out of his gun and taps it against the butt, then replaces it. He opens the door to the lab and we watch him disappear.  
"No, you're not gonna . . . No, no, I swear it's not in me!" I can hear Duane begging for his life. "Please, don't. Don't, please. I swear, it's not in me, it's not in me, I swear, I, I swear it's not in me. No, don't. Please!"  
Minutes stretch as Sam and I listen for any sounds coming from the lab.  
"Damn it!" I hear Dean exclaim. He walks back in, unlocks the door and opens it. I lock eyes with him, fury clear in mine, as Sam and I leave our temporary prison. I don't say a word as I go to check on the other people in the building. How dare he lock us up while he goes off to murder a possible innocent human. I was livid and knew not to interact with him for the time being, fearing something will be said or done that couldn't be fixed.

I take inventory of the filled cabinets in the lab, the copious amounts of pharmaceuticals lining them. Surely with provisions such as these, we could make explosives and other weapons to aid in our escape.

"Uh, could we make our own ammunition?" I ask, gesturing to the bottles of drug compounds and empty jars.

Sam looks at me in awe, amazed at my determination and attention. "Yes, Nic. We sure can," he smiles at me and walks over, beginning to take bottles off the shelves.

I help Sam bring everything we need to the counter and we start pouring the ingredients to make explosives into the empty glass jars topped with gauze sticking out of it to use as sucks. Dr. Lee enters and looks at Dean, then to Sam and I.  
"It's been over four hours. Duane's blood is still clean," she tells us. "I don't think he's infected. I'd like to untie him, if that's all right."  
I look to Dean who looks at Sam. Sam nods and Dean lowers his head. I watch the doctor walk back out and look at Dean.  
"You know I'm gonna ask you why," I say.  
"Yeah, I know," he says, quietly not raising his head completely.  
"So why? Why didn't you do it?" I ask, going back to my task.  
"We need more alcohol," Sam says, standing up to probably give us some privacy. He heads to the dispensary.  
Dean doesn't answer me before we hear a commotion coming from the room Sam is in.I look up to see the door shut. We both race to the door only to find it is locked from the inside. Dean kicks the door open and we find Pam straddling Sam, with a bloody palm held on his collarbone. Dean pulls his pistol from his waistband and shoots her three times in the back. She convulses and falls to the floor. Sam reaches out a hand to Dean, who starts to lean over to take it but I grab his shoulder, pulling him away.  
"She bled on him," I say, sorrowful. "He's got the virus." I look at Sam sadly. He pulls his hand back, realizing it's true.

Sam pushes himself off the floor and sits on a stool, grabbing a bandage and pressing it to his collarbone. His eyes are down, near tears and it is breaking my heart. Dr. Lee and Mark rushes in to find Pam lying in the floor, dead and Dean pacing angrily. They look at me wide-eyed and I shrug.

"Doc, check his wound, would you?" When Dr. Lee doesn't respond, he yells at her. "Doctor!"

"What's she need to examine him for? You saw what happened."

Dr. Lee approaches Sam. "Did her blood actually enter your wound?"

"Come on, of course it did!" Mark exclaims.

"We don't know that for sure.," Dean argues. "We can't take a chance.," he tells Dean. "You know what we have to do."

"Nobody is shooting my brother," Dean sys, stepping up to him.

"He isn't gonna be your brother much longer," Mark declares. "You said it yourself."

"Nobody is shooting anyone!"

"You were gonna shoot me!"

"You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might!"

"Dean, they're right. I'm infected; just give me the gun and I'll do it myself," Sam speaks up.

"Forget it.," Dean says, stepping away from Mark.

"Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things," Sam pleads with his brother.

"Sam, we've still got some time," I say, walking toward him and laying my hand on his shoulder.

"Time for what?" Mark asks me and then turns to Dean. "Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this." Mark pulls out his handgun, stepping closer to Sam.

"I'm gonna say this one time — you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? I mean, do I make myself clear?!" I tell Mark as he takes aim toward Sam.

"Then what are we supposed to do?!"

Dean tosses Mark his keys. "Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there. You two go with him. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now. Nic, you go with them!"

"Wha? Dean, no. I'm not leaving you here. Either of you!" I retort.

"Yes, you are. I'm not having you in danger of getting infected too," he remarks, pulling me to him. "I couldn't take it. I couldn't end you, no matter how bad you were." He whispers as he tugs me into his chest. "Just go. For me, please?"

"What about you?" he asks Dean who just shakes his head.

"Dean, no. No. Go with them. Go with Nic. This is your only chance!"

"You're not gonna get rid of me that easy," Dean replies, a small smile on his lips.

"No, he's right. Come with us," I beg Dean.

"Okay, it's your funeral," Mark tells Dean and leaves the room, Duane following him. The doctor gives us all a small smile and says,"Thanks for everything, Marshals" and leaves the room.I turn to Dean and grab him, hugging him tightly. Stepping back I looked up into Dean's eyes. They were swimming with emotion. I knew mine had to look the same. I was about to walk out the door and leave the man I loved behind. Not only him, but his brother. My heart was breaking at the thought of never seeing them again. Reaching up I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling his lips to mine. It wasn't slow and sensual or hot and passionate. It was filled with all the things I wanted to say, but didn't know how and probably wouldn't get the chance to.I ran my fingers through his hair as I caressed his tongue with my own. I did my best to memorize the feel of him in my arms, his scent, the way he tasted, and how I felt being near him. If this was to be goodbye I wanted to remember every last detail. I pulled away only when I had to, resting my forehead against his. I tried to form the words to tell him I loved him, but I couldn't. Instead, I gave him one last peck before walking away from him for what may be the last time.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Lee says as I meet her in the lobby. "It's gotta be hard leaving your partners like that."

"Oh, actually we're not really Marshals," I tell her following her out of the room, looking back at my boyfriend and his brother, feeling miserable. This might be the last time I ever see either one of them alive. I can feel the tears prick the back of my eyelids but I refuse to let them fall.

"Um. Oh."

"It's okay," I tell her. We walk toward the front door as we hear the door behind us shut and the lock engage.

Dean's P.O.V.

I regretfully watch Nic walk away with the doctor. I didn't want to send her away but this is for the best. There is no way in hell I could've killed her if she'd've been turned. It's gonna hurt like a bitch to have to do that to my baby brother. I shut the door and lock it. Turning to see Sam, who is crying.

"Wish we had a deck of cards, or a foosball table or something," i chuckle, trying to relieve the tension.

"Dean, don't do this. Just get the hell out of here," he tells me.

"No way," I say, shaking my head refusing his plea.

"Give me my gun, and leave. Go with Nic. Get that apple-pie life you deserve."

"For the last time, Sam. No."

Sam slams his fist on the table. "This is the dumbest thing you've ever done."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?" I tell him, shuddering.

"Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you."

"No?"

"No, you can keep going."

"Who says I want to?"

"What? I know you do. You and Nic, you could get out. Have a long, happy life."

I cross to the other wall and pull the handgun out of my waistband before sitting on the file cabinet.

"I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life . . . this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it. Yea, me and Nic, we could try getting out of this life. But is there really an out? How many hunters do you know who live a decent, semi-normal life? There is always something out there."

"So what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has —"

"You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but . . . "

"What is it about then?"

There's a noise outside and then a knocking on the door. I pick up both handguns and go to it, opening it enough to peer out; Nic is standing there. I open the door fully. I can't believe she didn't leave; that she came back.

"You'd better come see this. "

Sam and I follow her through the clinic and step out into the night air; The other two are standing there looking around. Everything in sight is deathly silent.

"There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just . . . vanished," Dr. Lee explains when she sees my questioning gaze.

We all marvel at the complete calm of a town that, just a few hours ago, was brimming with citizens affected by some demonic virus, causing them to turn on one another. I grab Nic's hand and pull her to me, so relieved that she's still here and for the time being, we are safe. The six of us share a confused look and return to the safe shelter of the clinic.

END DEAN'S . 

A few hours later, Dr. Lee requests to check Sam again to see if the virus has progressed in his system. Sam sits on an examination table and allows her to draw a vial of blood.

She smears some of it onto a slide and attaches it to an unused microscope to view it.

"Well, it's been five hours and your blood's still clean. I don't understand it but I think you dodged a bullet."

"But I was exposed. How could I not be infected?" Sam asks curiously.

"I don't know. But you're just not. I mean, you compare it with the Tanner samples . . ." She looks through another microscope. "What the hell?" Dr. Lee, utters.

"What?" I ask as I walk up beside her.

"Their blood. There's no trace of the virus. No sulfur, nothing," she motions for me to take a look and I do, even though I have no idea what I'm looking at.

"He's going to be fine. No signs of infection," she tells me after I look through the lens at Sam's sample.

.  
Dean looks over at Sam, perplexed.  
"Hey man, don't look at me," Sam defends. "I got no clue."  
"I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here, why now? And where the hell did everybody go?"

"It's like they just friggin' melted," I concur, slightly shaking my head.  
"Why was I immune?" Sam mumbled, but Dean being Dean and so in tune with his baby brother, heard.  
"Yeah. You know what? That's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away?"

Duane, who has been huddled up in the corner with Mark speaks up, "Hey, the Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come, Doctor Lee."  
"Nah,I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here," she says, declining the offer. She looks toward the three of us and shrugs. "If they'll believe me, that is."  
We watch as Duane and Mark load up the pickup and get into the cab, Mark driving and Duane in the passenger seat. They wave and drive away.

Dean leans against the top of the Impala and looks over at the doctor. "You need an escort to Sidewinder?"

"No, I'll be fine. I make that trip monthly," she tells him with a smile.

Okay, see ya around."

"God, I hope not." she deadpans. I nod my head in understanding.

I climb into the backseat of the Impala while the brothers climb into their respective places in the front.

"I'm beat. Wake me up in a week," I tell them as I roll up my jacket and place it against the door. I stretch out across the bench seat and close my eyes. I'm out before we leave the town of Rivergrove.

SAM'S P.O.V.

Nic is snoozing in the backseat, Dean is silent behind the wheel. The whole car is quiet, except for the hum of the engine. I see Dean glance in the rearview a few times, checking on her. I know there is more to how he feels about her than he lets on. But I'm not going to bring it up. I haven't seen my older brother this content in so long that it's almost like a breath of fresh air and I don't want to destroy it. Dean has always had a tough time letting people in, other than me, and even then there are some things he just keeps bottled up inside. It's going to send him to an early grave if a monster doesn't first.

After an hour or two of our silent travels, Dean pulls onto the side of the road and turns and glances to the backseat before getting out and going to the trunk. He lifts out our old green cooler that I know he keeps filled with beer. I step out of the car, careful to not slam the door. The view is amazing. A lake lay alongside the road, with a wooden fence separating the two. I follow Dean to the front of the Impala where he sits the cooler and opens it. He hands me a bottle before grabbing one for himself.

"So. Last night. You want to tell me what the hell you were talking about?" I ask him after taking a drink.

"Don't you dare breathe a word of that to her. Or anyone, you hear me."

"Not that! I won't say a thing about that."

"Then what do you mean?"

"What do I mean? I mean you said you were tired of the job. And that it wasn't just because of Dad. "

"Forget it," he deflects.

"No, I can't. No way."

"Come on man, I thought we were both going to die, you can't hold that over me."

"No, no, no, no. You can't pull that crap with me, man. You're talking." I'm not letting this go that easy and he knows it.

"And what if I don't?"

"Then I guess I'll just have to keep asking until you do."

"I don't know, man. I just think maybe we ought to . . . go to the Grand Canyon. Or Vegas. I bet Nic would have no problem getting a job as a showgirl."

"What?" He has thrown me for a total loop!

"Yeah, you know, all this driving back and forth across country, you know I've never been to the Grand Canyon? Or we could go to T.J. Or Hollywood, see if we can hook you up with Lindsey Lohan."

"You're not making any sense." I tell him, grimacing.

"I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we gotta get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can't we live life a little bit?"

"Why are you saying all this? Does this have to do with Nic?" I hold my breath, hoping I haven't pushed too far. And praying that he finally admits that it's more than just sex.

Dean shakes his head, turning away.

"No, no, no, no, Dean. You're my brother, all right? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit," I say, walking around to maintain eye contact.

"I can't. I promised," he tells me with a slight tremor in his voice.

"Who?" Who did he promise and what did he promise. Something tells me this has nothing to do with the girl asleep in the backseat.

"Dad."

"What are you talking about?" I asks, genuinely interested. What did the old man tell Dean that has him so torn up.

Dean looks down before speaking, "Right before Dad died, he told me something." He takes a breath, then looks at me. "He told me something about you."

"What? Dean, what did he tell you?"

"He said that he wanted me to watch out for you, to take care of you."

"He told you that a million times," I scoff, knowing that Dad had told him that almost everyday of our lives.

"No, this time was different. He said that I had to save you."

"Save me from what?"

"He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered; and that if I couldn't, I'd . . . "

"You'd what, Dean?"

"That I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy." Dean has tears adhered to his lashes.

"Kill me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I ask, shocked and confused.

"I don't know."

"I mean, he must have had some kind of reason for saying it, right? Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go Darkside or something? What else did he say, Dean?"

"Nothing, that's it, I swear."

"How could you not have told me this?"

"Because it was Dad, and he begged me not to."

"Who cares?! Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!"

"You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to God he'd never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day."

I turn and take a few steps away, I'm fuming over what I've just found out.

"We've just got to figure out what's going on, then, what the hell all this means."

"We do? I've been thinking about this, I think we should just lay low. You know? At least for a while. It'd be safer. And that way I can make sure —"

"What? That I don't turn evil? That I don't turn into some kind of killer?"

"I never said that."

"Jeez, if you're not careful you will have to waste me one day, Dean."

"I never said that! Dammit, Sam, this whole thing is spinning out of control. All right? You're immune to some weirdo demon virus, and I don't even know what the hell anymore. And you're pissed at me, I get it. That's fine, I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?"

"Forget it. "

"Sam, please, man. Hey, please. Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay? I'm begging you here, please. Please."

I reluctantly nod. We're not going to get anywhere standing on the side of the road, arguing.

"Hey guys," Nic's voice rings through the air. Her head and torso are hanging out of the Impala's back window. "Can we get going? I'm starving! "

END SAM'S P.O.V.

While at a diner we decide to drop by my old house and rest. We are nearby and with funds being tight, a motel stay was out of the question. The emotional turmoil of this case has taken a lot out of each of us. I just want a hot shower and a comfy bed to relax. Thankfully, I had never disposed of my key so when we get there, I unlock the door with no trouble. Walking in, I sigh. So many treasured memories lie within these four walls. That night, Dean and I are in my old bedroom and Sam is camped out in another. Dad's room remains closed up, untouched.

The next morning, I wake up and head downstairs. Later when Dean wakes he joins me. We discuss going out to get breakfast since there isn't any food in the house. He goes upstairs to wake Sam only to return to tell me Sam is gone.


	28. Finding Sam

Dean and I called everyone we knew to see if they'd seen Sam. I was on the phone with Bobby, explaining to him that Sam had disappeared from my house during the night; Dean was talking to Ellen to see if Sam had for some reason showed up at the Roadhouse. Everyone we called said they hadn't seen him but would contact us if they did. It was irritating. Baby was still parked outside so we were pretty sure he had left on foot. How far could someone get by walking without being seen by someone, anyone?

After going out to get a bite to eat, we returned to the house to search for any clues as to why he left and where he would go. I had no idea what was going through the boy's mind. Why did he just leave without telling me, or even his brother. I knew they were close; I've watched them become closer in the few months I've been hunting with them. Since the accident that took their father's life. Almost losing his big brother, the one who practically raised him, opened Sam's eyes and he became more open and honest with him. And I had thought Sam and I were getting close. I see him as the brother I never had. So, this vanishing act was totally out of left field.

"Dean," I turn to him as he walks back into the kitchen. "Yesterday, when I was asleep and you and Sam were out of the car, I might have heard something. Could this have anything to do with that?" I ask timidly.

Dean swipes his hand down his face. "Probably. Some truths were told and I don't think he took them well."  
"What truths? Dean, what did you say to him?"

Dean crosses the room and sits at the table next to me. "When we had the accident and Dad and I were in the hospital, he told me something before he died. Something about Sammy."

"What?" I ask, taken aback. "What did John tell you that would make Sam run off?"

"Right before he died, he told me to watch out for Sammy. Told me to save him. That if I couldn't save him, I'd have to..." Dean pauses to suck in a ragged breath. "He told me if I couldn't save him, I'd have to kill him." Tears are caught in his eyelashes as he looks at me. "Nic, how could he? How the fuck could he ask me to do that? That's my brother, dammit!" He slams his fist on the table, startling me. But that doesn't shock me as much as Dean's confession of what John put on his shoulders.

"He told you that? Who the hell does he think he is?" I shriek. "Telling you that you might have to kill your own brother? Who does that? Who fucking does that?" Standing up from my chair, I begin pacing the kitchen. I am beyond livid at John Winchester. To know that the whole time his children was growing up he was gone, leaving Dean to be a father, mother and brother to Sam and then just turn around and say 'Oh yea, and you might have to kill the one person you raised'. I feel like punching something, preferably John's face, but that was impossible so I ball my fist and slammed it into the refrigerator, denting the door. I hear a chair scrape the floor and next thing I know, Dean's arms wrap tightly around me and he pulls me to him. "NIc, it's okay. We'll figure this shit out. No way in hell I'm ending my brother. No matter how darkside he goes. We will work together, me and you, and solve this all." Dean kisses the crown of my head. "You with me?"

I lift my head from his chest and look into his eyes. "Wouldn't be anywhere else."

"Good," he smiles at me and leans in to kiss me when his phone rings.

"It's Ellen."

"Hello?"

"Yea, have you heard from Sam?"

"Come on, Ellen, please. Something bad could be going on here, and I swore I'd look after that kid."

"Thanks."

Dean looks at me as he hangs up and slips his phone back into his pocket. "He's in Lafayette, Indiana."

I don't say anything, I just grab the keys to the house and walk upstairs to grab our bags. Dean meets me at the bottom of the stairs, taking the bags and heads outside to load up Baby. I lock up the house, get into the Impala's passenger seat and we take off east toward Indiana.

We get to Lafayette and Dean stops and makes a phone call to find out if Sam used a credit card to secure a hotel room. His inquiry leads us to the Blue Rose Motel. The parking lot is half filled with cars and we easily find one with Oregon plates in front of room 14. Looking out the window of the Impala, we can see into the room. Sm is standing there with his back to us, but with the height and hair length, we know it's him."Oh thank God you're okay." Dean mumbles.

Sam steps to the side and we see a petite, brown haired woman standing there.

"Oh, you're better than okay. Sam, you sly dog!" Dean laughs. I slap him across his chest. "Ow! What was that for?"

Before I can respond we hear the sound of shattering glass and both see that the window we just saw Sam in has been busted. Sam and the girl are no longer in our view. Dean jumps out of the Impala and I follow behind. A gunshot fills the air and Dean and I both look to the place the sound came from. A silhouette of a man on his stomach can be seen on top of the building across the way.

"You go check on Sam and the girl," Dean tells me as he turns toward the shooter's hiding place. "I'll take care of this and be there shortly."

"Ok," I tell him. "Dean? Be safe."

"Always," he says, smirking at me. "Now go!" I watch him take off and turn to head toward Sam's room, afraid of what I'm going to find. Thankfully, Sam and the girl are fine, just shaken. Sam is not surprised to see me and introduces me to his friend, Ava.

"Where's Dean?" he asks me.

"Gone after the shooter. He'll be here soon, I hope."

"What is going on?" Ava asked, freaking out. "Why is someone shooting at us?"

"I don't know," Sam tells her. I keep looking through the broken window, hoping to see Dean. After 15 minutes, Sam and I decide to go see if we can find him.

"Wait! I'm not staying here alone," Ava tells us and follows Sam and I across the street.

Once we get to the roof of the building, I point out where we had seen the shooter and Sam walks over. Bending down, he picks up a discarded shell. He looks up at me. "These are .223 caliber. Subsonic rounds. The guy must have put a suppressor on the rifle."

"Dude, who are you guys?" Ava asks, looking between me and Sam. I can tell she is slowly beginning to lose control.

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you," I tell her and look back at Sam. "Who could it be? What could it be?"

"I don't know," Sam answers honestly.

"Shouldn't we be talking to the cops?" Ava asks, seeming to have calmed down a bit.

"Trust me, that wouldn't do us much good," Sam tells her and I nod in agreement.

"Sam, try calling Dean. Maybe he'll answer." I tell him.

Sam pulls out his phone and dials. Ava walks up to me; her face is pale and I can tell that she is about at the end of her rope with all this. "Who is he calling?"

"His brother," I explain. "We came here looking for him and Dean went after the shooter while I came to check on you guys. Now he's missing."

I turn to Sam as he hangs up the phone. I can see the worry etched on his face. "What is it?" I ask cautiously.

"He's in trouble," Sam says, his brow furrowed.

"What?" I can feel the fear slowly grabbing hold.

"He gave me a codeword. "

"Codeword?" Ava asks, clearly confused.

"Yeah. Uh, well he thought of it. It's kind of a long story." He explains to her then turns to me and says one word, "Funkytown."

"Someone's got a gun on him," I confirm. Oh god, this can't be happening. Who the hell was shooting at Sam and now is holding Dean hostage. I try to consider everyone, humans and demons included, that we have come across within the last little bit that we could have pissed off but no one comes to mind.

Sam and I escort Ave to her vehicle. "I don't think I should leave," Ava says once approach her car.

"I want you out of harm's way, Ava," Sam tells her.

"What about you two?

"Harm's way doesn't really bother me," I tell her, pasting a smile on my face.

"We'll be fine," Sam says.

"No, but you are walking right into my vision. I mean, this is how you die," she pleads.

"Doesn't matter. It's my brother," Sam explains. " 'Sides Nic wasn't in your vision."

"Maybe I could help!" She suddenly bursts out with energy.

"You've done all you can. Just, just go back to your fiance. "

"Are you sure?" She eyes us curiously.

"Yes, we're sure. Go home, Ava. You'll be safe there," I say to her and watch her get into her car and drive away.

"What are we going to do Sam?"

"Dean gave me an address to meet him at. Whoever has him, I don't think they know you're here too."

"So we use that as an advantage."

Sam and I stand in front of 5637 Monroe Street. It's a old, dilapidated building with some of it's siding gone and most of the windows missing and boarded up. It has been decided that I go in front to cause distraction while Sam sneaks around back and comes in to try and rescue Dean. I have no idea what I'm walking into so I take a cleansing breath, look at Sam and nod. He returns it and I walk toward the porch while he stalks around the side, heading to the rear. As I walk up to the door, I catch a glimpse of Dean through one of the boards on the window. He is sitting in a chair, wrists tied to the arms and ankles tied to the legs. A rolled-up bandana is tied around his head, covering his mouth. He looks to his right and I see Gordon Walker walk into view. 'Gordon fucking Walker,' I think to myself. That asshole was hellbent on killing everything in sight when we ran across a few weeks ago. After saving a harmless vamp from his clutches, we left him trussed up inside the house for days.

I turn the knob and slowly open the door, just far enough to squeeze my way in. Hopefully Sam has as much ease as I do getting in through the back. Gordon's back is to me but as soon as Dean sees me, his eyes widen and I can barely make out him screaming "Nic, run!" through his gag. Gordon turns and sees me standing there. "Well, well, if it isn't the Winchester whore. Come to save your boyfriends? Yea, I know Sam is out back working his way in. I got provisions in place to make sure he doesn't get in too far. Don't worry, I'm sure you and Dean here will be able to mourn Sammy's death together."

I stand there and listen to him ramble on. I worry about what he has in place for Sam and my eyes meet Dean's as we hear a lock click through the building. The fear in his eyes are mirrored in mine.

"You hear him? Here he comes," Gordon sings.

An explosion goes off toward the rear and I feel tears slide down my cheeks. "Oh don't cry yet, little NIkki. Not yet. Just wait and see. "

A second explosion rocks the building and I fall to my hands and knees, sobbing loudly. Dean is trying with all his might to break his binds, to no avail. Gordon picks up his rifle and warily walks toward where the explosions took place. I pull myself together enough to get up and run to Dean to get him loose. As I finally get the wrist binds untied and go to work on the ones on his ankles, Dean pulls the gag off his mouth. We hear a gunshot and we both freeze. Sam appears from the room Gordon had entered just minutes before. Dean jumps up, almost knocking me over and grabs Sam into a bear hug. I watch from the floor as Dean pulls back and looks over Sam's injuries. He takes off toward Gordon.

"That son of a ..."

"Dean. No."

"I let him live once. I'm not making the same mistake twice.," Dean tells his brother, venom dripping in his voice.

"Trust me. Gordon's taken care of," Sam assures.

Dean and I help Sam back to the Impala and get him settled on the passenger side. I lean in and get the first aid kit from under the seat. Dean pulls his phone out and walks around the car while I go about cleaning Sam's wounds.

"Well, who else knows about Sam, huh?" Dean turns to look at Sam and me through the windshield. "I mean, you must have been talking to somebody."

"Yeah, well he almost killed us both because somebody over there can't keep their friggin' mouth shut!"

"Gordon said he had Roadhouse connections, Ellen."

Dean hangs up and comes around to the driver's side. "Ellen says no one there could've said anything."

We head out of Indiana; Sam in the passenger seat and I'm in my usual spot behind Dean. Sam takes his phone out and dials.

"Hey, Ava, it's Sam. Again. Um, call me when you get this, just want to make sure you got home okay. Alright. Bye. "

"Everything all right?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, I hope so. "

"Dude, you ever take off like that again..."

"What? You'll kill me?" Sam looks at his brother and chuckles.

"That is so not funny," Dean scowls at him.

Sam laughs. "All right. All right. So where to next, then?"

"One word: Amsterdam."

"Dean!" Sam

"Come on, man, I hear the coffeeshops don't even serve coffee."

"I'll not serve you coffee anytime," I say seductively as I slide forward, wrapping my arms around Dean's shoulder. His eyes meet mine in the rear view mirror; there is a sparkle in them.

"Guys," Sam whines, shuddering. "I'm not just gonna ditch the job."

I slide my arms off Dean's shoulders and slide back against the leather seat.

"Screw the job. Screw it, man, I'm sick of the job anyway," Dean protests. "I mean, we don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get's bad luck."

"Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter. I mean, it's what you were meant to do.

"Ah, I wasn't meant to do anything," Dean continues to protest. "I don't believe in that destiny crap."

"You mean you don't believe in my destiny," Sam corrects his brother.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this. And you can't protect me."

Dean takes his eyes off the road long enough to look over at Sam.

"I can try."

"Thanks for that," Sam says, quietly.

Dean nods, concentrating on the drive.

"Look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting," Sam says. "I mean, whatever is coming, I'm taking it head-on, so if you really want to watch my back, then I guess you're gonna have to stick around."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Assholes," I join in.

"Hey!" They both retort, grinning and then Sam frowns and picks up his phone again.

"You calling that Ava girl again? You sweet on her or something?"

"She's engaged, Dean."

"So? What's the point in saving the world if you can't get a little nookie once in a while, huh?" I reach up and slap the back of Dean's head. "What? I meant, for him!"

Sam ignores us as he hangs up the phone after only reaching Ava's voicemail once again.

"Just a feeling," Sam says. "How far is it to Peoria?"

We pull up outside Ava's house and I notice her car is in the driveway, so at least she made it home. The boys get to work unlocking the door and I follow them in. It's dark and quiet, almost creepy. We all turn our flashlights on and make it through to the bedroom. A man, presumably Ava's fiance, is lying in bed covered in blood. I check his pulse and slowly nod to the boys; he's dead. Dean walks over to an open window while Sam is investigating the rest of the room.

"Guys," Dean says holding up two closed fingers. "Sulfur."

Sam goes to step toward him but stops and squats down, picking something up. Holding up his discovery, I can see it is the ring that Ava was wearing on her left ring finger, her engagement ring.

"Oh no," I whisper.

We leave Ava's house the way we found it and get back into the Impala.

"I'm sorry Sam. I know she was your friend," I tell him. "She seemed nice."

"Thanks Nic."

The next day, Bobby calls and tells us of a case in close to us. An inn ran by a single mom recently had two strange, unexplained deaths. We tell him we will take it and Sam, Dean and I load up in the black muscle car ready for the 14 hour trek to Connecticut.


	29. Getting Injured

The trip to Connecticut required at least two stops to fill up the her immaculate beauty and style, she was quite a gas guzzler. A newer model car would probably be a better option for these cross country trips but who was going to suggest that to Dean? Surely, not me. I like living.

During our second stop for fuel, both gasoline and food, I noticed a change in Sam. For the last three or so hours he had become distant and quiet, only speaking when spoken to. His behavior was beginning to worry me. So, once we were inside the convenience store to stock up on chips, cakes, soda and of course, pie I took the chance to talk to him.

"Sam, is something bothering you? You've been awful quiet since we left the diner back in Akron."

"Yea, I'm okay, Nic."

"Don't lie to me Sam Winchester," I tell him, wagging my finger at him. "I have been with you two long enough to know when something is bothering you."

"It's just...maybe Dad was right," he whispered. His confession knocked me for a loop. Why the hell was he thinking like that?

I glance around and see the aisle we are in and the aisles on either side are empty. "What the hell, Sam?! Why would you say that?" My voice increases and catches the attention of the lone clerk. Sam notices that she is looking our way so he shushes me and tells me we'll discuss it later.

We get back to the Impala with all our purchases for Dean to tell us he has to hit the head, giving us a few more minutes alone to re-open the discussion from inside. "Sam, why? Why would you think that?"

Turning in the seat, he looks back at me. "I killed a man, Nic. Not a monster, not a demon, a man. A human being! I'm turning dark. I can already feel it. I killed him with no second thought."

I look at Sam completely bewildered. What was he talking about, killing a man? He hadn't killed anyone that I knew of. Unless, he was considering Ava's fiance's death and blaming himself.

"No way Sam," I tell him. "Don't you even try to blame yourself for his death. Ava came to you of her own volition. Sha had no idea what was out there."

"Not him, Nic," Sam says, his eyes tilted down. "Gordon. I killed Gordon. He's dead."

At that precise moment, Dean slides behind the wheel of the Impala. "Who's dead? Hey," he turns to look at me. "You get any pie?" he asks, with a smile on his face.

I bring the slice of pie out of the plastic bag and hand it to him as Sam answers, "Gordon is dead. I shot him when he came after me."

I sit there staring at Sam, in utter astonishment. He killed Gordon? Yes, I remember now, there had been a gunshot right before Sam had emerged from the rear of the house Gordon was holding Dean hostage in.

"Good for you Sammy!" Dean praises his brother. "One less fucker to worry about out there."

Sam and I both stare at Dean with wide eyes. He's sitting there munching on the apple pie I had bought, not a care in the world. He looks up and sees us staring, "What? That son of a bitch was evil! He got what was coming to him."

"Dean's right, Sam. Gordon was more evil than any monster or demon out there. He didn't kill to save people. He killed because he enjoyed it. And that's downright fucking scary, dude! I think you once again saved the world by taking out the big, bad evil Gordon Walker."

Sam lets a small smile cross his lips as he looks back at me and mouths, "Thank you."

Dean finishes his pie and starts the Impala, pulling back onto the road.

"The Pierpont Inn was built in 1930," Sam reads the information Bobby had emailed earlier in the day. "Two freak accidents in three weeks. First, a lady drown in a bathtub. Then a guy falls down the stairs, head turned a full 180. Inn's been run by the same family for the past-," he pauses to look at the electronic file. "Wow! Okay, the same family has been running it since it was established 76 years ago."

"Any unexplained deaths in all those years?" I ask from the backseat.

"Nope, just the two recent ones. The first victim, a Joan Edison, age 43 was the realtor handling the sale of the property. The second victim was Larry Williams. He was moving stuff out for Goodwill. Apparently, the current manager is in the process of selling the hotel."

"Well, there's the connection," Dean says. "Both of them were involved it shutting down."

"Yea."

We pull up to a large beautiful mansion, one that would have been seen on plantations in the South in the past. The structure was made up of large, square stone. The windows all gleamed brightly in the daylight. The flagstone steps are lined with large urns, that probably at one time housed magnificent plants to add to the allure and welcome of the hotel. Now they just sat there empty and deteriorated. I grab my bag out of the truck when Dean opens it and slide the strap over my shoulder. The day was overcast, not raining but the air was wet and misty. The size of the hotel looming over us.

"This is gorgeous," I tell the guys.

"It's sweet is what it is," Dean says, grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers together. "We never get to work jobs like this."  
"Like what?" Sam asks from behind us.

"Old school haunted houses, you know? Fog, and secret passageways ... sissy British accents," Dean replies, trying to speak with a British accent and failing miserably.

We begin to climb the steps when Sam calls for us to stop. He points out a symbol on one of the aged urns, explaining it is a quincunx, a five-spot; a pattern used in hoodoo. That when combined with bloodweed creates a charm to ward off enemies. I look around. "I don't see any bloodweed," I tell them.

"Besides, ain't this place a little too, uh, white meat for hoodoo?" Dean asks.

Sam shrugs. "Maybe."

We continue the climb up the steps and enter the front door. The interior of the hotel is quaint and quiet. The decorum is outdated, but still kept to look stylish. We all three are so fascinated by the mere size of the lobby that none of us notice when the petite brunette step up behind the desk.

"May I help you?"

"Hi, yeah, we'd like a room for a couple of nights," Dean says, stepping up to the counter. I follow and stand beside him, our hands still intertwined.

As Sam joins, a little girl, about 8 years old, darts in front of his legs.

"Hey!" the lady looks to Sam and apologizes. "Sorry about that."

"No problem," Sam tells her.

"Well, um, congratulations, you could be some of our final guests," she says as Dean is signing the guestbook and pulling a credit card from his wallet.

"Well. Sounds vaguely ominous," he says, handing the car to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I mean we're closing at the end of the month."

"Speaking of antiques, you have a really, really interesting urn on the front porch. Where did you get that?" Sam inquires.

"Oh, I have no idea, it's been there forever.," she answers as she hands Dean two keys. "Here you go, Mr. Taylor.

"Thanks," Dean says as he hands one of the keys to his brother.

She rings a bell and says, "You'll be staying in room 237 and 238. Sherwin, could you show these gentlemen and lady to their rooms? I'm Susan, if you need anything."

When she says this, I turn to see an old, balding man in a black blazer shuffling up behind us.

"Let me guess. Antiquers?" The three of us all share a look and shrug.

Sherwin grabs Dean's duffel bag from the floor where he dropped it behind him, and proceeds to start up the steps, as we follow.

"So the hotel's closing up, huh?" I ask.

"Yep. Miss Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to," the old bellhop tells us. "Still, it's a damn shame."

"Oh yeah?" Sam has picked up on my idea of innocently interrogating Sherman for information.

"It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace. Two different vice-presidents laid their heads on our pillows," he tells us with pride in his voice. "My parents worked here, I practically grew up here. Gonna miss it. Here's your rooms." The cabins are straight across from one another.

Dean slips the key in the lock and opens the door, Sam mirroring him. Dean allows me access to the room first and turns to shut the door. Sherwin is still standing there, hand extended expectantly.

"You're not gonna cheap out on me, are you boy?" he asks Dean and I can't help but giggle as Dean grumbles.

He pulls out his wallet and hands the older man a couple of bills.

"Good evening, sir. Ma'am," Sherwin says, nodding his head toward me, turning to walk down the hall.

Later, Sam joins us in our room and we begin going over the facts of the case. Dean, of course, is fidgety and pacing the room.

He chuckles as he approaches what appears to be an antique wedding dress displayed on a wall like a ghost.

"What the —"

"What?" I ask him, looking up from the report I had been reading.

"That's normal?" he asks, gesturing to the dress. "Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long."

Maybe somebody here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back.

"So, who do you think our witch doctor is, that Susan lady?" Dean asks, shuddering as he looks once more at the dress and then turns to me and Sam.

"No, doesn't seem likely. I mean, she is the one selling," I tell him.

"So what then, Sherwin?"

"I don't know."

We decide to roam around the hotel and see if we can find anything that will clue us in on what is going on.

I find another, smaller urn and pick it up, inspecting it. There is another quincrux carved inside the lip. "Hey, guys. Look."

"More hoodoo, great," Dean grumbles. I sit the vase back down and continue on the excursion.

We come upon a door marked PRIVATE. Dean steps up and knocks. Susan opens it, surprised to see us.

"Hi there," Dean says, laying that Winchester charm on.

"Hi. Everything okay with your room?" Susan says, seemingly unaffected by his charisma.

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah, everything's great. Yeah."

"Well, I was, I was just in the middle of packing," she motions behind her.

"Hey!" Dean says, looking past her. "Are those antique dolls? Because these two pointing at me and Sam they've got a major doll collection back home. Dontcha? Huh?"

Sam and I agree after shooting Dean a glare. "Big time."

"Big time. You think he could come, we could come in and take a look?"

"Oh, I don't know ..."Susan said, unsure.

"Please? I mean, they just love them. They won't tell you this, but they're always dressing 'em up in these little tiny outfits and, um, you'd make their day. You — she would, huh? Huh?

"It's true," I say glancing at Sam and shrugging.

"Okay. Come on in," she concedes.

"All right."

He slaps Sam on the back and grabs my hand as we follow him in.

"Wow. This is a lot of dolls. I mean, they're nice, you know. Not super creepy at all.," Dean says as the vast display of dolls come into view.

"Yeah, I suppose they are a little creepy," Susan admits, chuckling. "But they've been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value."

There is a model scale building standing off to the side. "What is this? The hotel?" Sam asks as he rounds it.

"Yeah, that's right," Susan answers. "Exact replica, custom built."

Sam leans down and picks up a broken doll from inside the model and frowns.

"His head got twisted around. What happened to it?"

"Tyler, probably. My daughter," she confirms when I cast her a questioning look.

At that time the little girl from the lobby runs in.

"Mommy! Maggie's being mean," she tells Susan.

"Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, okay?"

"Hey Tyler. I see you broke your doll. You want me to fix it?"

"I didn't break it. I found it like that. "

"Oh. Well, uh, maybe Maggie did it. "

"No, neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke 'em. "

"Tyler, she wouldn't get mad," Susan tells the girl, laying a hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"Grandma?" I inquire.

"Grandma Rose. These were all her toys," Tyler explains to me.

"Oh. Really. Where's Grandma Rose now?" Dean asks.

"Up in her room," Tyler answers him, annoyed.

"You know, I'd, I'd uh, I'd really love to talk to Rose about her incredible doll —"

Susan suddenly speaks up, sounding nervous. "No. I mean, I'm afraid that's impossible. My mother's been very sick and she's not taking any visitors."

We leave Susan's room shortly after that and return to mine and Dean's room.

"So, what do you think?" Dean asks us. "Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma?"

"Well, dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo, like curses, and binding spells, and ..." Sam says.

"Yeah, maybe we've found our witch doctor. All right, I'll see what I can go dig up on boomin' Granny. You go get online, check old obits, freak accidents, that sort of thing, see if she's whacked anybody before," Dean says. "Nic, you coming?"

"Yea," I answer, crossing the room to follow Dean.

"Don't go surfing porn - that's not the kind of whacking I mean." I laugh as I see Sam rolls his eyes at his brother.

A flurry of activity is taking place downstairs so Dean and I head down to investigate.

"What happened?" I ask Susan, genuinely concerned.

Susan seems surprised to see us. "Oh, the maid went in to turn down the sheets and he was just . . . hanging there."

"That's awful. He was a guest?" Dean asks her.

"He worked for the company that bought the place. "

Dean hums in acknowledgment.

"I just don't understand." She says, mostly to herself.

"What?" I ask her.

"Had a lot of bad luck around here," she tells us. Turning around to us she says, "Look, if you'd like to check out I'll give you a full refund."

"No thanks. We don't scare that easy," Dean tells her, with a small smile on his lips.

We find Sam sitting alone in the dark in his room.

Dean walks in, not noticing the darkness of the room or the lack of interaction from his brother.

"There's been another one. Some guy just hung himself in his room."

"Yeah. I saw."

"We've gotta figure this out, and fast. What'd you find out about Granny?"

"You're the damn boss."

Dean and I both turn to Sam looking at him in surprise

"What?"

"You're bossy. And short," Sam laughs, sliding deeper into the chair. "Not as short as Nic, though. She's fucking tiny."

"I am not," I defend myself, trying to contain my giggles at drunk Sam.

"Are you drunk?" Dean asks his brother.

"Yeah" Sam answers, laughing. "So? Stupid."

We finally notices the empty liquor bottles scattered around the room. "Dude, what the hell are you thinking? We're working a case."

"That guy who hung himself. I couldn't save him."

"What are you talking about?" I ask Sam, going over to squat in front of him. "You didn't know, you couldn't have done anything."

Sam shifts his gaze to me. "That's just an damn excuse. I should have found a way to save him. I should have saved Ava too."

Dean approaches Sam, coming to stand behind me.

"Yeah, well, you can't save everyone. Even you said that. "

"No, Dean, you don't understand, all right?" Sam slams the side table. "The more people I save, the more I can change!"

"Change what?" I ask him.

Sam leans forward to me, his hands on his chest.

"My god damned destiny!"

"All right. Time for bed. Come on, Sasquatch." Dean leans over and pulls Sam up by the shoulders. "Come on."

"I need you to watch out for me," Sam says, looking Dean in the eyes.

"Yeah. I always do."

"No! No, no, no. You have to watch out for me, all right? And if I ever ... turn into something that I'm not ... " he pauses, licks his lips and then continues, "you have to kill me.

"Sam," I plead with him. I don't like the way is is thinking.

"Dean! Dad told you to do it, you have to. "

"Yeah, well, Dad's an ass," Dean says, trying to maneuver the moose of a man to his bed.

Sam frowns at Dean's admission. "He never should have said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't lay that fucking crap on your kids," Dean explains as he gets Sam situated on the bed.

"No. He was right to say it! Who knows what I might become?" Sam sits back up quickly, his arms flailing out around him. "Even now, everyone around me dies!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not dying, okay? Nic ain't dying. And neither are you. Come on. Sam."

He pushes Sam back down onto the bed, and Sam reaches up and clutches Dean's jacket. Dean's right hand curls in the fabric at his brother's shoulder.

"No, please! Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise.," Sam begs.

"Don't ask that of me."

"Dean, please. You have to promise me, dammit!"

Dean pauses and then gives in. "I promise."

"Thanks." Sam says as he reaches up and grabs Dean's face with both hands. "Thank you. You are ... "

"All right. Come on. No chick flick moments." He bats Sam's hands away and Sam falls back, turning over on his stomach to plant his face in the pillow, hugging it with both arms. Dean rubs a hand over his face. "I really, really hate drunk Sammy."

Once we're sure Sam is down for the night, Dean and I decide to go check out the bar we spotted during our earlier search of the downstairs.

We walk in and notice Sherman, the bellhop, behind the bar.

"Find any good antiques?" he asks us as we sit on a couple of bar stools.

"No, we got distracted," I answer, trying to sound disappointed.

"Have a drink?"

"Yeah, thanks." Dean says as Sherwin pours us both a drink. "So, poor guy, huh? Killing himself?"

"That kind of thing seems to be going around lately," Sherwin says, sadly.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard about the other ones. It's almost like this hotel is, uh, cursed or something."

"Every hotel has its spilled blood. If people only knew what's gone on in some of those rooms they've checked into."

"You know a lot about the place, don't you?" I ask him, hoping maybe to continue my earlier interrogation.

"Down to the last nail," Sherwin answers proudly.

"We'd love to hear some stories," Dean tells him.

"Boy, you should never say that to an old man."

We continue talking to Sherwin about the hotel until our drinks are gone. Sherwin takes us on a impromptu tour of the hotel to carry on his tales.

Dean and I follow Sherwin up the wide staircase once again, this time he is showing us old framed photographs on the walls, telling stories that go along with the photos.

"This is little Miss Susan, and her mother Rose. Happier days."

"They're not happy now?" Dean pries.

"Well, would you be, leaving the only home you ever knew?"

"I don't know. I never really knew one," Dean says and it breaks my heart.

"Well, this is Rose's home. It's been in the family over a century. Used to be the family estate," Sherwin tells us. "And now she gets to live in some senior living graveyard, and they tear this place down."

"Yeah, that's too bad," Dean agrees.

We start down the stairs.

"I hear Rose isn't feeling well," I remark.

"No, she isn't. "

"What's wrong with her?" I probe further.

"It's not my business to say, missy."

"Oh," I say, nodding my head.

I see a picture of a girl sitting on a chair with young black woman; the woman has a quincunx necklace. Picking up the picture, I nonchalantly nod toward it to get Dean's attention to it. "Who is this?" I ask Sherwin.

"That's Rose, when she was a little girl."

"Who's that with her?"

That's her nanny, Marie. She looked after Rose more than her own mother."

I see Dean frowns and meet his eyes, both in concern as Sherwin replaces the photo.

The next morning, Dean and I find Sam cuddled up to the toilet in his bathroom. "How you feeling, Sammy?" Dean asks his brother,loudly, only to be answered with a groan.

"I guess mixing whisky and Jäger wasn't such a gangbuster idea, was it? I'll bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?"

Sam groans again. "Ohh, I can still taste the tequila." Dean smiles at me.

"Hey Sam," I say walking to the bathroom door and leaning against the frame. "There's a really good hangover remedy - it's a, it's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray."

Sam heaves. "Oh, I hate you both."

"I know you do," Dean says, unapologetically. " Hey, turns out when Grandma Rose was a tyke, she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace." He walks over to stand beside me. "Whoo!"Dean bats the air, the smell coming from Sam's bathroom rancid.

"So you think she taught Rose hoodoo?" Sam asks, still groaning.

"Yes I do," Dean proclaims, proud of himself.

"All right," Sam says, standing up painfully. "I think it's time we talked to Rose, then."

Dean grimaces. "Oh. You can brush your teeth first."

We knock on the door marked PRIVATE once again. When there is no answer, Dean looks both ways and then lets Sam work on picking the lock. In the room full of creepy dolls, there is a door opened, displaying a dimly lit staircase. One by one we climb the stairs. At the top we are met with a hallway. Grandma Rose is seated in a wheelchair in the room at the end of the hallway. She is facing the window, rain water running down the pane. The three of us approach her cautiously.

"Rose?" I timidly ask, coming around to view her face. I can tell she is trembling and she is staring out at nothing. "We aren't going to hurt you," I say squatting down beside her. "It's okay." I notice she starts trembling harder, never making eye contact. "Guys," I call to them to get their attention. "This woman's had a stroke."

"But hoodoo's hands-on, I mean, you've got to mix herbs, and chant, and build an altar," Dean explains, probably more to himself than to us.

"Yeah. So it can't be Rose. Hey, maybe it's not even hoodoo.," I agree with him.

"Or she could be faking," Dean says, almost sounding hopeful.

"What are you gonna do, poke her with a stick?" Sam whispers asking him, which Dean shrugs and nods. "Dude! You're not gonna poke her with a stick!"

"What the hell?! What are you doing in here?" Susan comes into the room, surprised.

"We just wanted to talk to Rose . . ." "Well, the door was open . . ." Sm and Dean both speak, one's words overlapping the other's.

"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits," Susan says, frantically checking on her mother. "I want you out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops. "

We leave without hesitation.

As we are packing out bags into the Impala, I notice Susan walking toward the playground on the property. The swings eerily moving. An empty car in the lot starts up and begins to roll toward Susan, who seems to be mesmerized by the swings. "Guys!" I yell and Sam takes off running, knocking Susan out of path of the vehicle. The car crashes through the swingset and into the big oak tree behind it.

Dean and I run over and help them up. "Are you okay?" Dean asks Susan as he helps her and Sam off the ground. "Come on. Let's get inside!"

I help the boys guide Susan inside. She leads us into the bar and to a table.

"Whiskey?"

"Sure." We all three consent.

"What the hell happened out there?" Susan asks.

"You want the truth, sweetheart?"

"Of course."

"Well, at first we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse, but that out there? That was definitely a spirit," Dean explains to her. She has a look of disbelief, fear and something I can't identify on her face.

She hands each of us a glass of whiskey.

"You're insane," she tries to blow the explanation off.

"Yeah, it's been said," Dean chuckles.

"Look, I'm sorry, Susan. We don't exactly have time to ease you into this, but we need to know when your mother had the stroke," Sam asks her.

"What does that have to do with any—" Susan queries, unsure of why he's asking about her mother.

"Just answer the question," he pleads.

"About a month ago," she tells us

"Right before the killings began," I acknowledge and she nods.

Sam turns to Dean. "See? So what if Rose was working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone. To protect them."

"She was using the five spot urns to ward off the spirit," I recognize his train of thought.

"Right, until she had a stroke and she couldn't anymore.," Dean says, slowly getting on board with the idea.

"I don't believe this," Susan mutters.

"Listen, sister, that car didn't try to run you down by itself, okay?" Dean tells her. "I mean, I guess it did, technically, but, but the spirit can - forget it."

Sam interrupts him. "Look, believe what you want. But the fact is you and your family are in danger, all right? So you need to clear everybody out of here: your employees, your mother, your daughters, everyone."

"Um, I only have one daughter."

"One?" It's now our turn to be puzzled.

"I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie." I exclaim.

"Maggie's imaginary," Susan says, looking guilty.

I look to the boys, terrified. We just found our ghost. "Where's Tyler?"

We follow Susan up to the playroom to find Tyler

"Tyler!"

When we get into the room the floor is littered with broken dolls causing Susan to start to panic.

"Oh my god. Tyler," She runs out of the room and comes back still yelling for her daughter. "Tyler! She's not here!"

"Susan. Tell us what you know about Maggie," I ask her

"Uh, not much. Um, Tyler's been talking about her since Mom got sick."

"Okay, did you ever know anyone by that name?"

"Uh, no ..."

"Think, think, I mean, somebody that could have lived here, might have passed away?"

"Oh my god. My mom,." Susan says. She is beginning to freak out. "My mom had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her."

"Did Margaret happen to die here when she was a kid?" Sam asks.

"She drowned in the pool," Susan tells us.

Dean and I make eye contact. We are both thinking the same thing. "Come on," he says as he takes off back downstairs and outside.

The four of us run through the gardens to the pool house. We reach the door but it's locked tight. Sam and Dean start pounding at the glass, trying to break it.

"Tyler!" Susan screams over the pounding. "Tyler!"

"Mommy!" We hear Tyler call out before a scream and a splash.

"Is there another entrance?" Dean asks.

"Around back."

"All right, let's go," he looks to Sam and me and nods, "Keep working."

I offer to look around for a stone or rock or something to break the glass. As I'm hurrying through the overgrown grounds around the pool house, I fail to see the root sticking up out of the dirt. My foot catches on it and seeing that I'm practically running, it lurches me ahead and as I am falling toward the Earth, I hear bones crunching and cracking. "Motherfucker!"

Sam comes up to me asking if I'm okay and I yell at him to save the girl. He runs back to the door and notices a large potted planter. He pulls the plant out, picks up the heavy pot, and starts pounding the door with it.

Sam finally breaks open the door and takes off inside to save Tyler, diving into the pool from the balcony.

When Dean and Susan get to him, he has pulled Tyler out of the water and is trying to perform CPR. Tyler suddenly spits and sputters and water gushes out of her mouth.

"Thank god! Thank god, thank god," Susan is chanting as she falls to her knees beside her daughter.

"Mommy!" Tyler cries.

"Yeah, baby, I'm here."

"Tyler, do you see Maggie anywhere?" Sam asks her.

Tyler looks around and then looks at her mother, "No, she's gone. Mommy."

Dean speaks up, looking at his brother. "Where's Nic?"

"Outside. Think she might have broken her ankle," Sam says after pulling himself out of the pool.

Dean takes off outside looking for his girlfriend.

"Hey baby. What did you do?" Dean asks, squatting down next to me.

I'm laying on the ground, watching clouds float by in the sky. I knew it was useless to try and get up. There had been too many bones cracking for me to be able to put weight on my foot.

"Did you get her? Did you save Tyler?" I ask. looking at him, not the least bit worried about myself. It was my idiocy that got me hurt. The case was more important, saving Tyler was more important.

"Yea, Sammy got to her. She's okay. She'll live."

"Good."

"Can you get up?"

"I don't think so. Stupid fucking tree," I say, raising up looking down at my foot tangled with the root.

Dean chuckles, untangling my leg and wraps my arm around his neck and puts his arm under my knees, lifting me bridal style.

"I like having you in my arms," he says, kissing my forehead.

I roll my eyes. "Shut it Winchester." I wince at the pain. "I think it might be broken."

"Oh it definitely is," he tells me as we meet up with Sam and the others.

Susan and Tyler go into the hotel to retrieve Rose so they can leave after Dean settles me into the backseat of the Impala.

Sam leans on the open door. "You gonna be okay, Nic?"

"It's broken, Sam. I'm going to be demoted to research while you and Dean go out and fight the big bads. No, I'm not okay," I tell him, agitated. Aggravated at myself for not pay better attention. Why didn't I see that stupid root sticking up out of the ground. I am a hunter for God sake! It's been ingrained in my head to always be aware of your surroundings. I have fought vampires, witches, werewolves; hell, just recently, I fought and conquered a fucking shadow demon on my own, and yet a simple wood limb sticking out of the ground takes me out.

Sam opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by screaming coming from inside the hotel. I watch the boys take off at a run, heading inside. A short time later, Sam appears holding a distraught Susan by the shoulders, Dean behind them holding Tyler on his hip. An ambulance pulls up and I watch as the three adults speak to the paramedics and then Susan, taking Tyler from Dean, leads them inside. Sam and Dean walk over to the still opened back door of the Impala.

"Medics said it was another stroke."

"Rose is dead?" I ask and the both nod. "Do you think Margaret could have had something to do with it?"

"We don't know,: Dean says.

"But it's possible, yeah," Sam confirms.

The three of us watch as the paramedics exit the hotel, their gurney with a black body bag between them. Susan and Tyler are following close behind. As the ambulance pulls away, a cab pulls in. Susan walks over to where the guys are standing and I'm propped up in the back seat.

"Susan, I'm sorry" Sam tells her.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You've given me everything.

She turns to Tyler, "Ready to go, kiddo?

"Yeah.

"Now Tyler, you're sure Maggie's not around anymore?

"I'm sure. I'd see her.

"I guess whatever's going on must be over.

Sam walks with Susan and Tyler and holds the taxi door open for them.

Before getting in the taxi, she turns and gives Sam a full-body hug. Dean smirks. I giggle at his expression.

SAM shuts the door behind her and walks back to the Impala.

"Think you could have hooked up some MILF action there, bud," Dean quips. "I'm serious, I think she liked you." Dean shuts the rear door of the car and walks around to the driver's side.

"Yeah, that's all she needs," Sam says. rolling his eyes.

"Well, you saved the mom, you saved the girl. Not a bad day," Dean smiles as he slides in behind the steering wheel. "'Course you know, I could have saved 'em myself, but I didn't want you to feel useless."

"All right, I appreciate it," Sam remarks, pulling open the passenger door and sliding in.

"Now," Dean states as he turns the key in the ignition. "Let's get hopalong Cassidy back there to the hospital."

"Not funny, BABE!" I retort as we pull away from the inn.


	30. Being Sidelined

The suspension in older vehicles sucks! Especially when traveling on unnamed, untreated back roads that are full of dips and potholes. And it is really lousy when you're trying not to jostle an injured limb.

My foot is propped up on blankets Dean pulled out of the trunk, in a cast from my toes to halfway up my calf. Five days ago, I fell over a tree root completely shattering most of the bones in my foot plus my ankle snapped, so after an intensive surgery to place screws and bolts and plates, we are headed to Sioux Falls so I can recuperate on Bobby's couch.

"How you doing back there?" Sam asks as he turns his head looking at me. I know he can see the pain in my eyes and I wince as we hit another rut in the road.

"If we don't get there soon, I'm gonna pass out from the pain," I tell him through gritted teeth. "These bumps are killing me. I feel like popcorn back here! This car is not gentle."

"Hey! Don't be talking about Baby like that. Her shocks are practically new," Dean defends his car. "I'm trying to avoid the big holes but for every big one there are half a dozen little ones."

"I know, Dean. I'm just in pain."

"Need another painkiller?" Sam asks, opening the glove compartment to grab my bottle of medicine.

I shake my head. I don't want to take it too close together and it has only been 4 hours since I took one. Plus they knock me the fuck out. "I'll take it when we get to Bobby's. That way I can sleep while you guys catch up," I tell them. "And no laughing because I got taken out by a tree root!"

"We wouldn't dare!" Sam says, sounding offended. And I might have believe him if he was better at hiding the chuckle.

Bobby's driveway wasn't any better than the stupid back roads we traveled to get here. Almost 2 miles of gravel and washed out ruts that by the time we are pulled up to his porch and stopped I'm ready to hop on one foot to the door. I lay there and watch the boys get out; Sam to the trunk and Dean opens the door behind my head to help me out. Once I'm leaning on the open door, Sam hands me the crutches and then grabs our duffels. Dean follows closely behind me, ready to catch me if I lose my balance. Sam's already on the porch talking to Bobby, telling him what happened.

"I got the couch in the den made up for ya, Nic. Brought your blanket off your bed so you'd feel more comfortable," the older man tells me once I get to the top step.

"Thank you Bobby," I say, smiling at my pseudo-father. If it wasn't for Bobby, God only knows where I'd be. If it hadn't been for Bobby, after demons killed my dad, I would probably be hell bent on revenge not caring that those tickets who murdered my father was something I didn't even know existed.

John Winchester had helped slay the ones who did the actual killing and saved me from their clutches but it was Bobby who showed me that evil actually did exist and it was out there in broad daylight. And Bobby's house had became my home. For over 2 years I lived with Bobby and that is how I met Sam and Dean.

And now here I was, back to live with the old mechanic once again. I looked forward to catching up with Bobby and getting my leg and foot healed up.

That night, Dean and I exchange words over sleeping arrangements. It had already been decided that I would spend my time recovering on the couch in the living room and I have bedded down for the night after Sam and Bobby retire upstairs. Dean and I are the only ones left watching t.v. in the dimly lit room. I am this close to losing consciousness when I hear it click off, the room is now bathed in moonlight.

"Good night Dean," I whisper, expecting him to be heading upstairs. Instead, I hear his voice above my head, "Good night sweetheart."

I crane my neck to see him with his huge frame, bent and folded in the leather chair with his legs hanging over one side and his head held up on the other.

"Dean, go to bed."

"I'm in bed, " he tells me.

"Go upstairs. Sleep in my bed so you can stretch out. That-," I motion toward him with my hand, "-cannot be comfortable."

"I don't wanna leave you alone," he mutters.

I set myself up on my elbows, "Dean Winchester, get your ass upstairs now. I won't sleep knowing you are so uncomfortable!"

He slowly disentangle from the obvious uncomfortable position and stands. He walks over to the front of the couch and I lay back down, looking up at him. He leans over and gives me a chaste kiss, "Call if you need anything. I mean it, Nic. Anything."

"Ok babe. Get some rest," I smile up at him and watch as he walks away. "I mean anything you need just call me," he tells me, stopping at the doorway and half turning to look back at me.

"Dean, I am NOT going to call you if I have to pee. I can handle that on my own," I say, finally clued in when he smirks. "You, mister, are not watching me pee!"

"So, I'll stand outside the door and wait," he shrugs. I grab one of the throw pillows from the floor and sling it at him. He laughs and heads upstairs.

The next day is uneventful, if you want to call being waited on hand and foot by Dean Winchester uneventful. Every time I made to get up, he was right there, handing my crutches to me, following behind to make sure I made it my destination. After my third trip to the bathroom, though I had had enough. "Dean, I can do it! I'm not totally immobile. You need to relax. The doctor said not to overdo it. I think walking to and from the bathroom is not what he meant."

"Sorry," he says, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. "I just don't want you falling and hurting something else."

I sit down, situating my leg back onto the pile of blankets and pillows. "You know, I don't think Bobby has any rogue tree roots lying about," I joke trying to make him realize I'm not mad.

He smiles down at me and chuckles. "Yea, ok. I'll back off."

He walks back toward the kitchen and I speak up, stopping him."Dean, thank you for looking out for me." He winks and disappears into the kitchen.

Later, after an unplanned nap, I awoke to the three of them sitting around Bobby's large mahogany desk; their heads in more books.

"What's up guys?" I ask stifling a yawn and stretching.

"Possible case," Sam answers me, his eyes never leaving the page of the book in his hands.

Realization hits me. They're going to be leaving. I knew that eventually they would have to do so, but I was kind of hoping for a bit of reprieve from hunting for them too.

"What's the 411?" I ask, figuring I could still listen and try to help identify the source.

"Milwaukee. Longtime bank employee knocks guard out, robs bank and then offs himself," Sam explains what they know so far. "Then about a month later, woman cleans out jewelry store, shoots guard only to go home and kill herself."

"So, what makes you think it's our type of thing?"

"Well, for one, none of the loot was ever found anywhere. Why steal all that to just hide it and then go home and commit suicide?" Sam lifts his head and looks my way.

"So, when you leaving?" I ask, resigning myself to the fact that they were heading out without you.

"Late afternoon. It'll take 6 hours to get there, with Dean's driving. That way we can grab a room and get a thorough idea of what we're looking for."

"I get you there, don't I?" Dean spoke up, defending his speeding flair.

That evening I watch my boyfriend and his brother carry duffel bags and a suitcase out of Bobby's house to pack into Baby. I tried to keep my emotions in check, knowing if he saw how much this was upsetting me, Dean would feel even worse about leaving. I smiled at Sam as he came and gave me a hug, telling me to take it easy and get well so I could be back out on the road with them. Dean's goodbye took much longer. When he reached down to hug me, I refused to let him go, making him promise to keep in contact with me. I wanted to relish the feeling of his strong arms around me and get lost in his kisses. I ultimately had to release him when Bobby cleared his throat for the second time. Dean leaned over, kissing my forehead before he stood from his perch on the edge of the couch and walked out the door. As soon as the rumble of the Impala could no longer be heard, I let the first tear drop fall.

Day 1: Nightshifter

I texted Dean the next afternoon. I missed him and I knew if he was interviewing suspects, he couldn't answer a call and could reply to a text later. He texted me back almost immediately, apparently taking a break from the case.

N: How's the case coming along?

D: Slow. Got a lead though. Dude was caught on film with glowing eyes.

N: Shifter? Man those suck. Never know who it's going to be next.

D: This one guy swore we had a mandroid on our hands.

N: Mandroid? Like on Terminator?

D: Exactly! That's what I told him too! But man Nic, you should have heard Sammy. He is getting good at this fake FBI schtick.

D: Told the guy we had to remand the tapes he copied. That they held classified evidence of an ongoing investigation.

N: Awe Sammy boy is growing up.

A few hours later my text notification goes off as I'm returning from a quick dash, albeit slow with my crutches, to the kitchen for a soda and a sandwich. Bobby was out in the scrapyard somewhere and I was hungry. I picked up the phone, opening the text app and laughing loudly at Dean's message.

D: I hate playing dress up. Sammy has us going undercover as technicians for the security system.

N: You like it when I dress up.

D: Yea, yea. Way different babe! I don't think lacy thongs would look good on me.

N: You never know Dean ;)

D: I am not wearing a lach thong, ever! You hear me woman.

N: Yea, yea. Get to work techie.

Finishing my sandwich, I flipped on the television to laze the day away.

D: Gah! This is boring. We're watching security feeds. I miss you Nic

N: OMG! That does sound boring. Sam's idea I bet huh? I miss you too Dean

D: How's your foot? Keeping it elevated?

N: Yes, Nurse Singer is taking very good care of me.

D: Bet he ain't no Dr. Sexy huh?

N: Oh gross Dean. Not cool

D: Hahahahaha

D: Shit! Gotta go Nic. Mandroid boy is holding up the bank!

N: Fuck! Be careful Dean

I was now worried again about the safety of my boyfriend and his brother. A bank holdup was no laughing matter. Cops would be involved and if mandroid boy was the least bit on the insane side, who's to say he doesn't just shoot the hostages and whoever else in the building. I lay on my tan and brown prison, watching the people on the boob tube fight, make up, cry and whatever else they were scripted to do. Daytime tv blows!

Bobby comes in as the last bit of daylight fades away and starts on dinner. I try to hobble into the kitchen but he sends me back to the couch. I sit with a huff, crossing my arms. I'm tired of laying around, doing nothing. My phone beeps and I grab it.

D: So uh what's your thought of dating a supposed bank robber?

N: Huh? What the hell are you talking about?

D: Some federal agent came in guns blazing to take us out. Knew who we were, knew who dad was

N: What the fuck? How'd you get away?

D: Knocked out two SWAT officers and borrowed their uniforms.

Thank God! They're okay. I can breathe easier now. Which is probably a good thing once I get Dean's next message because I lose my breath from laughing so hard!

D: Shifter got me in the jewels. Kinda wish you were here.

N: What? You need me to ice your balls? ;)

D: Wow way to kill a moment there babe

N: Sorry. I'd kiss them and make them all better. Would that help?

D: Maybe...

N: So where to next?

D: Providence Rhode Island. People killing others because it's God's will

Day 2: Houses of the Holy

That morning, Bobby serves me oatmeal and toast but he allows me to shuffle to the kitchen table to eat. I promise not to tell Dean that he let me off of the couch, laughing that he made me make that promise. I'm on my way back to the living room when my phone beeps. I sit down and grab it to see a message from my boyfriend.

D: I fucking hate being on lockdown

N: Well, you were the one caught on the news...kinda makes being in public a problem.

D: We should really have sex on a vibrating bed...there's really magic in the "magic fingers"

N: Dude! LOL So what are you doing while enjoying that?

D: Wouldn't you like to know *winky face*

D: Shit, Sam's back

D: Please tell me you don't believe in angels?

N: Uh, what?

D: Sam believes in angels. And apparently unicorns.

N: You talking halo and fluffy white feather wings? Nope, don't exist.

D: Thank God!

N: He don't exist either.

D: Good point!

The rest of the morning is spent sitting up a makeshift work desk for me. I had suggested that since I couldn't get out and about that I would take the task of answering the phones and helping out the hunters who called in for advice and information; Bobby happily agreed. Around mid-morning I got another text from Dean, which helped brighten my day.

D: Another one bites the dust...

N: What?! Another murder or you quoting Queen?

D: Murder. Guy whacks another and then goes and turns himself in.

D: And Queen isn't that bad.

N: That's stone cold crazy!

D: Ha! Very fitting. I got one for you...I will rock you my fat bottomed girl.

N: Dean Winchester! Did you just say I have a fat ass?

D: What? No! Never mind.

I knew what he was trying to say and it made me smile but being the little shit I am, had to give him a hard way to go. I didn't hear from him for about an hour and I was beginning to worry that he might have thought I was mad. I had my thumb hovering the call button when a text came in.

D: We might have found a connection

N: Really, what?

D: Two of the three dead guys were world class pervs

N: Still, death by avenging angel?

D: They all belonged to the same church. Get this. Our Lady of the Angels.

N: So some do-gooder knew their secrets and disposed of them? I don't know, sounds prophetic.

N: Look into the pastor...they confess their sins to him, right?

D:I thought only Catholics done that

N: Eh, I don't know. Maybe? Check out the pastor anyways

D: On our way now. Let you know what we find out.

N: Ok. Hey Dean. Be careful

D: Will do sweetheart

The rest of the day passed quickly. I answered Bobby's phone when a hunter named Aaron called needing information on how to attract a Craitzen, a monster who sucks the blood directly from the heart using a long sharp spear-like hollow razor to pierce through the breastplate into the hearts of the victims. I had never heard of one so I had to deal with the hassle of limping around to find the correct lore book and get the information.

When my phone rang a little after 6, I was surprised to see Sam's name on the i.d.

"Hey Sam," I answer enthusiastically.

"Hey Nic, how's the foot?" Sam asks, but I can hear hesitation in his voice.

Not answering his question, I ask him one of my own. "What's wrong?"


	31. Poor Possessed Sammy

"Nic, I saw it," he tells excitedly tells me.

"Saw what Sam?"

"The angel," he says. "It knew who I was. It gave me peace, grace."

"Sam," I say cautiously. "Whatever you saw, it...it just read your mind. Has to be some type of spirit. Angels aren't real."  
"You're wrong Nic," he tries to argue. "It was an angel and it spoke to me. It chose me to do His will!"

"Sam, where is Dean?" I asked him exasperated.

"He's out. He couldn't take it. He couldn't understand that the angel chose me, ME!"

"What did you get chosen to do, Sam?"

"When I get the sign, I have to stop this guy from doing something bad. I don't know what but I know it's bad."

"Sam."

"You know what, Nic," I hear him say, irritated. "Just forget it. I thought you would at least understand. You and Dean are a perfect match." With that he hangs up on me.

I call Dean's phone and listen to it ring. When the voicemail picks up, I decide to keep calling back until he answers. After the fourth ring on the third try, he answers. I can hear the faintest sounds of music and laughter and it makes my blood boil. How dare he go out to a bar and leave his brother to deal with this.

"What the hell dude?" I try not to scream into the phone. "You're out living it up while something is telling you little brother to kill someone?!"

"I tried Nic. I swear I tried to understand what Sammy was saying. I tried to make him understand that angels aren't real, but he was so damn stubborn. I had to get out of there at least for an hour or it would have became a fight and Nic, I didn't want to hurt my brother." Dean sighs heavily. "I wish you were here to help."

"I get what you're saying Dean. I really do," I explain to him. "But what if he gets this supposed sign while you are out and does something you can get away from? I wish I was there too! God believe me, I wish I was there. But I'm stuck here on this stupid couch for who knows how long!" I take a breath to calm myself before I ask the next question on my mind. It's the little buzz in the back of my head and I can't ignore it. "Dean, are you at a bar?"

"Yea, why?"

I knew of his history of picking up one-night stands on hunts and I knew he hadn't picked any up since we got together but I am injured and almost a whole 24 hours from him. I know he was feeling down because of what's going on with Sam but if he chose to go out and get laid to take his mind off of it, we were going to have a problem.

Before I could answer him, he must have picked up on what I was thinking because he spoke up. "Nic, not like that. I am just getting a beer to take the edge off. I promise! 'Sides not much to pick from. The old guy at the end of the bar is so hammered, I don't think he could get it up even if he wanted to."  
I couldn't help but laugh. I was feeling insecure about nothing apparently. Dean wasn't out prowling for sex. He was just out trying to unwind, the Dean Winchester way. I wasn't about to fault him for that.

"Nic, as soon as my beer is gone, I'm heading back to the hotel. Alone, I swear!"

"I know, Dean. I know. I'm sorry."

We hang up and I go back to reading the lore book I had had to grab when that hunter called about the Craitzen. I figured I could learn as much as I could about the monsters we knew of and the ones we had never heard of before while I was wounded and practically confined.

The next break I get from reading up on the lore is a call from Sam again.

"So, Father Gregory's grave is covered with wormwood. Dean wants to do a seance and summon his spirit."

"A seance?!" I exclaim, surprised that Dean is the one to actually suggest it.

"Yes, right there in the church. We've just finished getting the supplies. We got a Spongebob placemat for an altar cloth!" Sam says chuckling.

"So just put Spongebob side down," I offer, with a shrug of my shoulders that I know they can't see but it's just habit. "So if the angel is Father Gregory and he shows up, you'll just what? Put him to rest?"

"That's the plan, sweetheart," I hear Dean's voice through the receiver. Sam must have the speakerphone on.

"Ok, be safe you guys."

"We will," Sam says and then hangs up.

Bobby once again re-enters the house right when the sun is setting and begins making something for us to eat. Before he can protest, I grab my crutches staggering on them to the kitchen table. I watch as he stirs something in a pot until he's satisfied and then grabs a couple of bowls from the cabinet. "Chicken noodle ok with you?" he asks as he sit the bowl and a spoon in front of me.

"Only if you have crackers," I say, smiling up at him. Bobby was a good man. He had taken me in when I was left with no one. When my dad was murdered by demons and I was left to defend myself. Thankfully John Winchester had swooped in and saved me, bringing me to Bobby's because it was safe for someone such as me, new to the world of the supernatural. If it hadn't been for Bobby, I would have never really learned all I did about monsters and demons.

"I have a half loaf of bread," he tells me, pitifully. "I haven't made a supply run yet this month."

"It's okay," I tell him.

That night, as I'm getting settled on my temporary bed, I wonder about the boys. I haven't heard from them in about 4 hours and I was beginning to worry that something went wrong with the seance.

Around 2 a.m. you phone rings; Dean's name showing up on the screen.

" 'ello?"

"Hey sweetheart." In just those two words, I can hear the uneasiness in his voice.

"Dean, babe, how bad is it?" I ask, sitting up.

"Well, it turns out it was Father Gregory. We, or should I say Sam, took care of it. But I saw something Nic. Something I can't explain."

"What'd you see Dean?" I cautiously ask him.

"I think..." he pauses, collecting his thoughts. "I think maybe God's will."

Day 3: Born Under a Bad Sign

My phone wakes me up. It feels like I had just dozed off after talking to Dean about what he witnessed when chasing the bad guy last night. Whether it was God's will or just coincidence, no one would probably ever figure it out, but the bad guy got what was coming to him, so all in all everything turned out right.

"Nic, have you heard from Sammy?"

"Um, no. Why? Isn't he with you?"

"He was when I went to sleep but now he's gone again! I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again. I'm losing my mind here."

"Have you tried calling him? Maybe he's just out for a run. You know how he is. Especially with everything that's happened. He wants time to himself when he gets too far into his own head."

"I've called him a thousand times, there's nothing but voicemail. I don't know where he went, or why. Sam's just gone, babe."

Well, keep calling. He'll eventually answer. Even if it's to tell you to fuck off."

"Yea, I'm gonna call around and see if anyone else has heard from him. Thanks sweetheart."

Let me know if you find him."

"Will do."

I sit my phone back down and lay back, staring at the ceiling. Dammit Sam, why do you keep taking off?

That afternoon, the 'Monster Hotline' phone rings and I pick it up to answer it. Before I can even get the 'Hello' out, Dean is screaming in my ear. "He stole the Impala! He fucking stole my fucking car!"

"What? Dean, calm down! Who stole the car?"

"Sammy. He called me and told me where he was at. When I got here, he was completely out of it, covered in blood. I thought it was his. Checked him over for wounds."

"Oh my god!"

"It wasn't his. Apparently he went on a bender and blacked out. Found a knife covered in blood in a car he jacked."

"Oh my god! Did he kill someone Dean?" I hesitantly asked.

"Yea, a hunter named Steven Wandell."

"Dean what are you going to do?"

"Well first, soon as I find him, I'm kicking his scrawny ass for taking my Baby. Then we'll go from there. If this boy doesn't keep running off, I might just have to hed Dad's warning."

"Dean Winchester! You quit talking like that right now!" I yell at him through the phone. My rant is met with silence. He knows I'm right.

"How'd he get the keys anyway. I know you, you don't just leave those lying around."

"He hit me over the head with the btt of his gun. Knocked me the fuck out, that's how," Dean sighs and I can imagine him running his hand over his face. "Nic?"

"Yea?"

"I'm sorry. Sorry I yelled at you. Sorry I suggesting ending my brother. I couldn't do that, you know."

"I know baby."

I hear some guy talking the background and the faint but distinct sound of computer buttons being pressed.

"Found him! Oh you ain't gonna like this," Dean says.

"Where's he at Dean?"

"The Roadhouse."

I see red.

I'm sitting up on the couch, feet in the floor, uninjured leg bouncing; waiting on a call, text, something from Dean. I hear a knock on the door and, knowing Bobby is still inside, listen for him to answer. I hear him welcome Sam into the house seconds before they enter the den.

"So what brings you?" Bobby asks Sam, trying not to act suspicious of his sudden arrival. I had informed Bobby of Sam's disappearing act after hanging up with Dean earlier.  
"Working a job nearby, and thought I'd stop in and say hey." Lie #1.  
"Well, where's Dean?" Bobby inquires, side eyeing me.  
Sam laughs and answers with lie #2, "Holed up somewhere with a girl and a twelve pack." Sam looks directly at me and smirks. Bobby continues the facade by asking, "Oh yeah? She pretty?"  
Sam, never taking his eyes from mine laughs and says "You ask me, he's in way over his head."

Bobby glances at me and I know he can tell I'm not believing a word that is being spoken.  
"Beer?," Bobby turns back to Sam, who smiles at him and nods. The old man steps into the kitchen, grabs three beers and returns handing me one and the giving one to the younger Winchester.  
"Well, it's good to see you," he says raising his bottle. "To John."

I raise my bottle in salute and take a long drink.  
Sam mirrors my actions and adds, "To Dad."  
I watch from my perch on the sofa as Sam swallows the beer. He spews suddenly, choking, falling to his hands and knees and coughing and gagging painfully. Bobby and I sip our beer, unconcerned.  
"What'd you do?!"  
"A little holy water in the beer. Sam never would have noticed," I tell the demon. "But then, you're not Sam are you."  
Bobby speaks up. "Don't try to con a con man." before slamming his fist into Sam's face, knocking him out.

"Nic, see if you can get a hold of Dean. Tell him we have whatever is in Sam." My phone is on charge so I pick up the landline but it's dead.

Bobby is in the process of tying up demon!Sam so I get up to grab my phone. I dial Dean but am met with his voicemail. I hang up and type out a quick message telling him we have Sam and to get here as soon as possible. 

Hours later, Dean finally shows up and I can tell he is hurt but he just shrugs my concern away. Demon!Sam is still out cold and tied to a chair in the middle of the den; the chair sat under a devil's trap on the ceiling. Dean, Bobby and I discuss the best way to handle the situation before Dean walks over and slaps his brother's body across the face. "Hey asshole!"

Sam's eyes open and immediately look up at the ceiling seeing the sigil painted there.

"Dean. Back from the dead. Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a damned cockroach."

"How about I smack that smartass right out of your mouth?" Dean mocks.  
"Oh, careful, now. Wouldn't want to bruise this fine packaging."  
"Oh don't worry, this isn't gonna hurt Sam much." Dean turns and picks up a bucket. "You, on the other hand ..."  
Dean tosses a bucketful of holy water on Demon!Sam, who sizzles and roars.  
"Feel like talking now?  
"Sam's still my meat puppet. I'll make him bite off his god damned tongue.  
"No, you won't be in him long enough. Bobby.  
Bobby begins reading in Latin. "Exorcisamus te, omnes in mundus spiritus omnes satanica potestas, omnes incursio ..."  
Bobby continues the exorcism while Dean speaks, "See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up? You're not getting Sam. You understand me? 'Cause I'm gonna kill every one of you first. "  
Demon!Sam struggles painfully, then throws back his head and laughs maniacally causing Bobby to stop the chanting and look at me, wonder and worry etched on both our faces.  
"You really think that's what this is about? The master plan? I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan," demon!Sam says, looking up at Dean.  
Bobby begins the incantation again. "Humiliares sub potente magnu dei..."  
"Oops. Doesn't seem to be working," demon!Sam chuckles. "See, I learned a few new tricks."  
He lowers his head and begins growling Latin. "Spiritus in mundus, un glorum suarum umitite palatum iram, domine ..."  
The fire in the fireplace flares and the room shakes as he continues.  
"This isn't going like I pictured! What's going on, Bobby?" I yell over the noise.  
Bobby looks at Sam and then raises his eyebrows. "It's a binding link! It's like a lock! He's locked himself inside Sam's body!"  
"What the hell do we do?"  
"I don't know!"  
Dean turns to look at me. "Nic, get out of here!" I shake my head but the look in Dean's eyes make me reconsider and I get up to grab my crutches.  
Demon!Sam throws back his head and screams; the shaking walls and ceilings begin to crack, breaking the protective circle. Demon!Sam's eyes are black as he lowers his head.  
"There. That's better," demon!Sam says as he jerks his head left; Bobby goes flying. He jerks his head right and Dean flies across the room, landing heavily against the far wall. Dean is flinching in pain from his shoulder so I try to make my way over to him. Demon!Sam rips free of the restraints and kicks one of my crutches out from under me. I fall against the wall on my bad side so I just lean against it and try to continue to get to Dean. But demon!Sam stalks over to Dean, stopping me. "You know when people want to describe the worst possible thing? They say it's like hell."  
Demon!Sam kneels in front of Dean, fisting his left hand in Dean's shirt and clocks him hard with a right jab. Dean grabs onto Sam's shirt with his right hand, trying to get through the demon and into Sam's subconscious.  
"You know there's a reason for that. Hell is like, um ..." he taunts and he hits DEAN again. Well, it's like hell. Even for demons."  
I can't do anything but watch as demon!Sam hits Dean again. Dean is groggy and looks to be on the verge of passing out. He is bleeding heavily from his nose.  
"It's a prison, made of bone and flesh and blood and fear." I cringe as he hits him again and grabs Dean's head holding it steady. "And you sent me back there!"

Dean and I speak at the same time, realizing just who is possessing the younger Winchester. "Meg."  
Sam(Meg) looks over the shoulder at me. "No. Not anymore. Now I'm Sam. And you-," standing up and approaching me. "You are special to him. You know that? Sam feels something for you." A finger runs down my cheek and a hand grabs my chin. "Let's see how he feels about this." Suddenly lips are on mine, roughly kissing and a tongue is trying to pry my mouth open. I grit my teeth and press my lips harder together. Sam(Meg) pulls back and smiles eerily. "Nope. Nothing."  
Sam(Meg) turns around and walks to Dean, hitting him one more time. Then digs his right thumb into Dean's bullet wound. "By the way. I saw your Dad there - he says 'howdy'."  
He digs his thumb further into Dean's shoulder. Dean tries to pull Sam's hand away, groaning in pain. "All that I had to hold onto, was that I would climb out one day, and that I was going to torture you. Nice and slow. Like pulling the wings off an insect." He shoves Dean's grasping hand away. "But whatever I do to you, it's nothing compared to what you do to yourself, is it? I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your Dad, and deep down ... you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you. You don't even think you're worth it for her," Sam(Meg) says motioning toward me with a thumb.  
Sam rears back to hit Dean again but suddenly Bobby is there, grabbing Sam's arm. He presses a hot poker into the mark on Sam's arm. Sam(Meg) screams in pain, then screams again as black demon smoke billows out of him and up the chimney. Dean pulls himself up painfully. Sam falls back, then comes to himself, scrabbling and looking around in confusion, then grabs his arm in sudden pain.  
"Sammy?" Dean asks the person on the floor.  
"Did I miss anything?"  
Dean rears back and right-hooks Sam in the cheek, "You fucking ever touch her like that again and I WILL kill you" then he rolls his eyes and collapses. Sam grabs his cheek and looks up at me, wide-eyed and confused.

Bobby comes over, leans down and picks up my crutch, helping me to keep my balance while I adjust it under my arm. I hobble to the table, sitting down. Sam sits across from me while Bobby is busy getting my foot situated on the extra chair. He then turned to DEan and pulled him up to a sitting/leaning position against the counter. I tell Bobby to get an ice pack, which he does and hands it to me. I gently lay it across Sam's arm where the binding link was burnt off. Sam smiles at me in gratitude. Dean groans and wakes up, pushing himself off the floor nd joining his brother and I at the table. Bobby promptly hands him an ice pack to put on his battered face.

"By the way, you really look like crap Dean," Sam tells his brother, testing the waters.

"Yeah, right back atcha," Dean smirks. "What was with the kissing Nic? You harboring feelings for her?"

Sam looks completely and honestly taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"You. Kissed. Nic," Dean spat out. Sam looks at me and I nod. "Meg said she could sense that Nic was special to you. Said you felt something for her."

"No. God, no! Dean you know demons don't understand shit like feelings. I love her man," Sam says, causing Dean to growl and begin to stand up. "But like a sister!" Sam hurriedly adds. "Nothing more than a little sister, I swear."

"I'm older than you, you dork," I giggle.

"Ugh, you know what I mean," Sam tells me, grinning.

Bobby walks in slowly, looking concerned.

"What is it, Bobby?" I ask.

Bobby looks at Sam and Dean. "You boys ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?"

"Why do you ask?" Dean asks, removing the ice pack from his eye.

Bobby explains, "Just heard from a friend. Wandell's dead. Murdered in his own house. You wouldn't know anything about that."

I notice Sam swallow thickly and look down in guilt. I wonder what is up there?

"No sir, never heard of the guy," a little too earnestly for my liking. The boys know something they aren't telling us.

"Dean -" Sam pleads, but Bobby interrupts.

"Good. Keep it that way. Wandell's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up, and they're not going to slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?"

"We better hit the road. If, uh, you can remember where we parked the car," Dean looks at me solemnly. I was hoping to spend some time with him, but of course it doesn't seem I'm going to get to. Damn monsters and demons!

"Here. Take these," Bobby says, handing each of them a small metal charm.

"What are they?" Sam inquires.

"Charms. They'll fend off possession," Bobby explains. "That demon's still out there. This'll stop it from getting back up in ya."

"That sounds vaguely dirty," Dean says. Since he has scooted closer to me, I lean over and whisper in his ear. "I want you up in me." Surprisingly, Dean blushes.

"Uh, thanks," Sam smiles at Bobby but Bobby looks back at him seriously, not returning the smile. "You're welcome. You boys be careful now."

Bobby heads outside, leaving Sam, Dean and I in the kitchen.

"You okay? Sam? Is that you in there?"

Sam looks at his brother soberly. "I was awake for some of it, Dean. I watched myself kill Wandell with my own two hands; I saw the light go out in his eyes. "

"That must have been awful," I tell him, grabbing and squeezing his hand, trying to comfort him.

"That's not my point. I almost carved up Jo too," I'm stunned by his confession but hold no sympathy for the girl. Sam looks his brother in the eye. "But no matter what I did, you wouldn't shoot."

"It was the right move, Sam. It wasn't you."

"Yeah, this time. What about next time?" Sam counters.

"Sam, when Dad told me ... that I might have to kill you, it was only if I couldn't save you," Dean clarifies. "Now, if it's the last thing I do I'm gonna save you." After a pause, DEAN laughs softly.

"What?" Sam and I both look at him, questioning.

"Nothing."

"Dean, what?" Sam begs, frowning.

"Dude, you - you like, full-on had a girl inside you for like a whole week." And then he begins a full body laugh that is contagious because I start laughing too.

"That's pretty naughty."

Sam's frown cracks, and he laughs with me and Dean.


	32. Still On The Bench

Day 17-Tall Tales

A couple weeks passed before anyone called needing any serious help with their hunts. And surprisingly the one who called was Sam. They were baffled on a case and needed Bobby's expertise.

It was quickly decided that I would stay back in Sioux Falls while Bobby travelled to aid the boys on their hunt.

"And he didn't give you any information about anything?"

"Nope, just that they were having trouble. Those two idjits bicker like an old married couple. Probably can't agree on what to do," his analogy makes me giggle. "I'll be back about 3 days, 4 tops."

"Okay, Bobby. Be careful,"I tell him, watching as he grabs his duffel and swing it over his shoulder. "Hey Bobby, keep my boyfriend and his brother safe, ok?"

"Of course, darlin!'" He says before he takes off out the door.

I was beyond surprised when , two days later, Bobby returns. I was secretly hoping the guys would be with him, but unfortunately they had gotten wind of another case and took off to deal with it.

"So, what was the problem?" I asked Bobby once he got settled. "Or was it just sibling rivalry?"

"A bit of both actually.," Bobby huffs out a laugh when I look at him puzzled. "A trickster caught on that they were there investigating the case and used his skills to pit the boys against one another. All the cases dealt with stories out of those stupid checkout line gossip rags."

"What? You mean like aliens and u.f.o.'s?"

"That was one. Also, an alligator in the sewer. The philandering professor who was visited by a dead girl turns up dead himself. All just weird circumstances. The bad guys got their dues, so to speak."

I am amazed at the stories Bobby is telling me he helped the boys with. "So what exactly is a, what'd you call it, a trickster?"

"Sort of like demigods. There's dozens of them. They're immortal, and they can create things out of thin air. They create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing. Things as real as you and me. Make them vanish just as quick."

"So how'd you figure it out?"

Those two idjits were the biggest clue. The trickster had them so turned around and at each other's throats, they couldn't even think straight. Sam thought Dean hid his laptop and Dean swore Sam had let the air out of the tires on the Impala. It played them like fiddles."

"Oh man! Well, I'm glad you sorted it out before Dean killed Sam for messing with Baby."

"Yea, that boy has a crazy weird obsession with that car," Bobby chuckled.

So, who was the trickster? I asked him, highly curious.

"The janitor. We ganked him."

Day 32: Roadkill

"Hey sweetheart."

I smile at first, happy to hear his voice then I catch the somber tone. "Hey Dean. What's wrong?"

"Nothing Nic. Just needed to hear your voice," he tried chuckling but the somberness in his voice lingered.

"Don't lie to me Dean Winchester. This boyfriend/girlfriend thing, it means we talk to each other, help one another. So I'll ask again, what's wrong?"

"Just a tough case, sweetheart."

"So, tell me about it," I urged. I loved listening to the deep timbre of his voice. And something told me that he needed to talk the case out, that something was bothering him.

"This woman, Molly. She and her husband were in an accident and for the past 15 years she's been haunting this one stretch of road where it happened.. She didn't realize she was dead. Spent all this time, looking for her husband and running from a crazed ghost, trying to kill her."

"That's terrible," I say, feeling sympathetic for the poor woman.

"We had to break the news to her. She thought it was still 1992. She died on the night of their five year anniversary." I hear Dean take a breath so I just waited for him to continue. "It got me to thinking, Nic. She spent all this time out here, searching for her husband while still being hunted and chased by a bloodied man carrying a chainsaw. What if no one gets happy endings."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, concerned with his mind-set.

"Look at everyone we know. My mom, my dad. Even Sam. None of them got happy endings. Shit, even Bobby. You know his wife got possessed and he had to take her out. You-your dad was taken out by demons, leaving you noone. What if a hunter's life means we have to give up what we want. To be happy."

"Dean, what are you saying? Are you wanting to end this, end us?" I ask, try not to falter over my words. I needed to know what he was thinking, where this conversation was going.

"No, Nic! Nothing like that," he quickly answers. "God no, baby. You are the best thing to ever happen to me. Nic, you're my best friend. My companion. You've seen me at my worst and my best. I'm just saying," he pauses and I can imagine him running a hand over his face. "I don't want to lose you. To this life or any other way."

"Dean, quit it right now. You hear me?" I speak into the phone. "I'm not going anywhere. We are in this together."

"Yea babe. I hear ya. Okay, thanks for telling me. I guess I just got in a weird state of mind after this case. It was just so sad. Like she loved him so much that she couldn't move on until she found him."

"I can understand, Dean. It is depressing. But now she is at peace, right?"

"Yea," he answers. "Ahem, I'm gonna get some shut eye. Talk to you soon?"

"You better!" I chuckle and he duplicates it. "Bye Dean."

Good night sweetheart."

Day 45: Heart

Since I had been downgraded to having to only use one crutch to get around and doctor's approval to actually move, I was really beginning to get cabin fever so I begged Bobby to take me with him on his monthly supply run. He agreed after making me promise not to overdo it and to sit down if I got too winded. So, after almost a month and a half, I was perched on the passenger side of a 1970's Ford pickup headed downtown to shop. I watched as the scenery passed by, trees were beginning to get the little green buds on them that would bloom into leaves and the fields held miles and miles of dandelions and yellow colt's foots. For being the end of March it was a balmy day and the air coming through the rolled down windows combatted the heat.

I am limping through the store when my phone dings, notifying me of a message.

D: Where are you? There's no answer at Bobby's

N: Talked the old man into bringing me on a supply run

N: What's up?

D: Heartless victims and lunar cycles line up. Werewolf

D: Haven't seen a case like this since I was a kid

I text back and forth with Dean a few more minutes and then get back to shopping, sliding my phone into my pocket.

The house phone rings while I'm working on putting up the last of the groceries. It has taken longer than usual since I can only carry two or three small items at a time while navigating around with my crutch. I grab the phone turn it on and lodge it between my ear and shoulder.

"Hello?"

"Heya sweetheart." I hear the sweet sound of my boyfriend's voice.

"Dean," I say with a smile on my face.

"Have a nice trip?"

"It was supply run dude. But yes, it felt good to get out. What are you doing?"

"Stalking the crazy ex of our witness," Dean says, sounding completely bored.

"Sounds boring," I tell him.

"Yea, well it was either this or sit back there and watch Sam make googly eyes at her," Dean says, chuckling.

"Go Sammy," I laugh but seriously I am happy that he is getting back out there.

"Oh god Nic, don't cheer on my little brother's escapades."

I laugh so hard that I accidently drop the jar of peanut butter. It rolls across the floor and stops at the stove. "Fuck!"

"You okay Nic?"

"Yea, clumsy me dropped the peanut butter. Good thing it's plastic."

Ironically as soon as I say that, there is a distinct sound of glass shattering over the phone.

"Shit! Gotta go," Dean exclaims.

Before I can remind him to be careful, the line goes dead.

After a night of pacing and continuously checking my phone and the landline, I give in and call Dean. He answers after the third ring.

"I'm okay," Dean tells me. "I got knocked out but I'm alive."

"Oh thank God! Wait, what!? You got knocked out?!"

"I'm okay, Nic. I gotta get to Sam though. Madison's the werewolf."

"The witness Sam's crushing on is the fucking werewolf? God dammit."

"Yea, I got her on the arm with a silver knife. I told him to check her for a cut but he hung up on me. I'm going to her apartment now."

"Okay, God, I hope Sam is okay. Let me know ok?"

"Yea, I will. I'm walking up to the door now. I'll call you back."

I don't hear from Dean again until that night when he calls back.

"Madison's neighbor, Glen was the one who turned her. I just watched him die. I took him out."

"So it's over?"

"Should be. I killed the one who bit her."

"Good. Maybe you could come by?" I hint. I'm missing him. I haven't seen him in over a month.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to try my damnedest to be there when you go to get the cast removed."

"Just 11 more days," I tell, excited. "I'll be so happy to get rid of it. I might dance all the way to the car."

Dean chuckles. "Oh I'm definitely going to be there for that." I smile, god, I can't wait to see him, hold him, kiss him.

"You can dance with me, then."

"Oh no sweetheart. I don't dance. Ever."

"Boo!" I say, pouting with my bottom lip out, even though I know he can't see it.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Dean Winchester does not and will not ever dance."

We chat for a few more minutes until Sam interrupts by calling Dean.

I go back to limping and hobbling around to finish putting away the groceries and then make me something to eat.

 **DEAN'S P.O.V.**

Sam and I sit in Baby outside Madison's apartment, just ot be on the safe side. I don't think she will turn but stranger things have happened, right?

"It was sort of sad, actually. Glen had no clue what was going on. Hey, why do you think he turned Madison instead of just killing her in the first place?"

"I don't know. I mean, he kind of seemed to have a thing for her," Sam tells me.

"Maybe his primal instinct did, too. Maybe he was looking for a little, uh, hot breeding action."

"Yeah. Something like that.

"So?" I ask him. I know that Sam is attracted to her and hey, if she doesn't turn then maybe he can end his dry spell. It's been since Jess and that was almost three years ago. How the boy has combusted yet is beyond me. It's only been a month since I've seen Nic and I'm about to combust myself.

So what?

"Speaking of Madison ...?" I say. I can't help but put it out there.

"Oh, whatever.

Don't "whatever" me, man, you liked her. Maybe, uh—

"Dean, she thought I was a stark-raving lunatic," he argues.

"You saved her life," I tell him.

"Yeah, but she doesn't know that."

Suddenly someone knocks on his window and we both look. It's Madison

"You know, for a stake-out, your car's a bit conspicuous. What are you still doing here?" she says.

"Honestly? Uh, we're pretty sure you're not gonna turn tonight, but we've gotta be a hundred percent, so... you know, we're ... lurking," I say and grin at her.

"I know this sounds crazy," Sam tells apologizing.

"Sure does," she says. "Well, if we're gonna wait it out... we might as well do it together.

We get out of Baby and follow her back into her apartment.

"You were telling the truth, weren't you? About everything. What you did – it was to help me," she says after we explain to her the truth about her mugging and break it to her about neighbor Glen.

"Yeah," Sam answers her, giving her his signature puppy dog eyes.

"I did all of those horrible things ... when I turned.

"You didn't know," Sam speaks softly to her.

She pauses, thinking. "So, when will we know for sure? Moonrise?

"No, I don't think so. You turned middle of the night last night," Sam reveals to her. "I think we've gotta hang in until sun-up."

"Well, it looks like we've got ourselves a few hours to kill. Poker, anyone?" I say, trying to lighten the mood. Instead we stand there awkwardly looking at each other. I finally sit on the couch and grab the remote. If I'm going to be stuck while they try to ignore the sexual tension between them, I'm going to watch t.v.

It's almost dawn and Sam and Madison are sitting at the table talking in hushed voices and I've just finished a movie about the wild west. I stand up, stretching and walk to the window. The horizon is a myriad of orange, yellow, pink and red. It really is beautiful when you just take the time to pay attention. I hear The other two walk up behind me and the three of us watch as the sun comes into view.

"Does – does this mean it worked?" Madison asks, looking up at Sam.

"Yeah. I think so," Sam answers her, relief evident in his voice.

She sighs. "Oh, God, thank you. Thank you so much." She gives Sam a hug. I enjoy seeing my brother somewhat happy but I have to be the annoying big brother anyways so I clear my throat and they pull away. Madison looks over at me laughing, "You, too, Dean. Thank you."

"Aw, don't mention it," I say as I meet Sam's eyes over her head. I know that look. "So, I'm just gonna head back to the hotel. And probably call Nic, or something. I head out the door, pumping my fist in the air. 'You go Sammy boy' I think to myself.

 **END DEAN'S P.O.V.**

I stayed up late talking to Dean on the phone so at 11 a.m. when my phone starts buzzing I groan and silently threaten whoever is calling. I see Sam's name on the screen.

"Sam Winchester, if you are calling to gloat about getting laid, just know I have a gun and I know how to use it. My aim is on point too."

Sam gives me a sad laugh. "No, Nic. I'm not calling to tell you I got laid."

"What's wrong?"

"She turned," he sighs.

"Oh god! Sam, I'm so sorry. What are you going to do?"

"I took care of it."

My gasp is audible. This man, this sweet man who has never done anything amiss, has had to kill the woman he just spent the night with. It was beyond unbelievable! My heart was aching for him.

"I'm so sorry Sammy."

"Thanks," he huffs out a half-laugh. "So, I think we're heading your way. Dean says another week or so and you lose the plaster leg." I allow him to change the subject. If he didn't want to discuss it, I wasn't going to push him.

"Yes," I tell him, thrilled. Not only would I be as good as new but they were coming home!


	33. Djinn Dream

"There's a cop car outside," Sam says, looking out the window.  
"You think it's for us?" I ask as I try to lean over far enough to see through the window. Damn gimp leg! I didn't have the hard cast anymore but the doctor had required me to wear this soft boot-like cast. It's removable for showers and baths and for that I am grateful. But what it also determined was for the next 6 weeks, I'm on research duty. Dean has been adamant about that and I can't help but agree. How can I fight and confront demons and monsters when I am still injured. Simple, I can't.  
"I don't know," Sam replies, watching.  
Dean speaks through the phone, which is on speaker, "I don't see how. I mean we ditched the plates, the credit cards."  
The cop car drives away.  
Sam sighs. "They're leaving. False alarm."  
"Well, see you guys. Nothing to worry about."  
"Yeah, being fugitives? Frigging dance party."  
"Hey man, chicks dig the danger vibe."  
"I heard that!" I say with a small smile on my face.  
"Sorry," Dean apologizes, sheepishly.  
I turn my attention back to the books about the demon, a Djinn. Sam picks up John's journal, open to the same subject.  
"So you got anything yet?" Sam asks his brother.  
"Are you kidding me? How could I? You two have me sifting through like 50 square miles of real estate here," Dean responds.  
"Well, that's where all the victims disappeared," I tell him.  
"Yeah well, I got diddly-squat. What about you?"  
"Just one thing. We're pretty sure of it now." I pull one of the books closer. "We're hunting a Djinn," I tell him and Sam nods in agreement.  
"A freaking genie?" Dean asks, laughter in his tone.  
"Yeah."  
"What? You think these suckers can really grant wishes?"  
"I don't know. I guess they're powerful enough. But not exactly like Barbara Eden in harem pants. I mean, Djinn have been feeding off people for centuries. They're all over the Koran," Sam tells his brother.  
"My God. Barbara Eden was hot, wasn't she? Way hotter than that Bewitched chick," Dean's voice is laced with desire.  
"Now you're just trying to piss me off," I tell Dean, agitation heavy in my voice.  
"Are you even listening to us?" Sam says, agitated also.  
Dean clears his throat. "Yeah. So uh, where do the Djinns lair up?"  
"Ruins usually. Uh. Bigger the better – more places to hide," I tell him getting back to the case.  
"You know, I think I saw a place a couple miles back. I'm gonna go check it out."  
"Wait – no, no, no, no, no. Come pick me up first," Sam pleads with his brother.  
"Naw, I'm sure it's nothing. I just wanna take a look around.  
"Dean, the only way to kill a djinn is a silver knife dipped in lamb's blood!"I tell him, trying to alert in to the danger of going after the djinn unprepared. "You got one of those just lying around?" I ask sarcastically.  
"It'll be okay. I'm just going to look around," he tells me and hangs up the phone.  
Sam lowers his hand with the phone in it and sighs.  
"He just has to go in guns blazing, doesn't he?" I ask Sam.  
"All the damn time," he chuckles

Dean's P.O.V.

I grab a flashlight from the trunk of the Impala and enter the deserted warehouse, swinging open the creaky door. There is what appears to be an abandoned office, with a typewriter, file cabinets, etc. There's a dripping water sound, but otherwise the building appears empty.  
I look back and forth a few times, and then start walking back the same direction I came from but this time in the hall. On my left I a wall of clouded glass.  
Suddenly something attacks me, pinning me against the wall of windows. I drops the flashlight when my attacker slams my right hand up against the wall. I get a clear look at the djinn; a bald man with curling blue tattoos all over its face. The djinn opens its left hand and it begins to glow in blue, at the same time that his eyes begin glowing. The djinn puts its glowing hand on my forehead and everything goes black. 

I slowly open my eyes and the sight before me is foreign to me. The room is bathed in bright sunlight showing me the pale blue walls. I sit up and begin trying to figure out where I am. A sleeping figure shifts beside me and I can tell it's Nic and we must have had sex because what is not covered with the sheet is nude. I glance down and notice I'm naked too. Yep, sexy times. Wait, why can't I remember that? I always remember making love to Nic!

A noise in the opposite corner grabs my attention and that's when I notice, wait what? A baby crib? Whose baby is in the room with us? And where are we? I don't recognize my surroundings at all.

Nic begins moving more as the noises coming from the corner turn into piercing cries.

"I'm up. I'm up," Nic says sleepily. "Come on, DJ would it kill you to sleep past 7?" She continues as she slips a robe on and steps over to the cradle. Turning around she has a little boy with wide eyes, green in color same as mine and sandy blonde hair. The baby looks almost identical to what pictures of myself as a baby I remember before the fire. Nic notices me then.

"'m sorry, De. Did he wake you?"

"Uh, no. I was already awake," I tell her, looking between her and the kid.

"Good. You wanna go start the coffee or you want to be on diaper duty? And Julie will probably soon be up."

I grabbed the boxers that were in the floor on my side and pull them on. "Julie?" I ask, getting more confused.

"Your daughter, you dork," Nic answers me, handing the little boy to me. "I'll go start the coffee. Dad'll be here soon so get him changed and I'll feed them before they leave." She walks out of the room, slowly shutting the door behind her.

I have a daughter? Nic's dad is alive? This is apparently my son. Where the hell am I? What the fuck kind of prank is this?

I grab a diaper out of the diaper bag sitting beside the baby bed and lay him down on our bed.

"Ok, kid, I'm going to need you to work with me. I've never changed a diaper before." The little type looks up at me and blows bubbles. I open the snap on his clothing and gently pull his legs out.

I paid close attention to my movements as I removed the wet diaper, knowing I would have to reverse the process to get a dry one back on. As soon as I letter the front of the tail end, though the kid let go and pissed right on me, hitting me in the chest.

"Oh come on dude, really?! You peed on me!" I grabbed the edge of the bed sheet and wiped myself down, hurrying to put a diaper back on him before the geyser erupts again.

In the kitchen, Nic was pouring cereal into a bowl in front of a little girl with brown pigtails and green eyes identical to mine. Seeing me, she put her hands over her eyes and giggles. "Daddy's naked." I look down and yep, I'm still in just my boxers.

"Dean, will you please go get dressed. My dad will be here any minute and I know he doesn't want to see you in your skivvies," Nic tells me, taking the kid from my arms and putting him in a high chair. "I don't mind it though," she whispers and winks at me.

"Uh, yea okay," I say, turning to go the way I had just come from. "Oh, you might want to change the sheets. Little man got me good this morning."

Nic and Julie both laughed loudly as I retreated to the room to get dressed.

"Dean!" I heard Nic yelling my name as I pull a shirt over my head. "Dad's here. Can you bring the diaper bag down when you come?"

I pick up the bag and notice it's embroidered with the name Dean on it. So DJ is Dean Junior, I think to myself. Dean Winchester, Jr. "Oh, dear lord tell me I didnt let her give that child my middle name," I whisper to myself.

The man standing in the entryway was no doubt Nic's father. They had the same color hair and eyes the same color and shape. He was a well-dressed man, medium build wearing wire-rimmed glasses.

"Hey there Dean." He greets me while Julie is hanging onto his pant leg.

"We going to the park today, Papa Gary?"

"We sure are. You can swing on the big girl swing again," he tells her, running his hand over her hair. "Papa Gary will even push you if you want."

"YES!" Julie cheers and runs to put her shoes on.

"So, Dean, what are you and Nic gonna do with a house all to yourselves?" her dad asks me, catching me off guard. I don't know what the plan is. Is this a one-time thing. Do we not get time to ourselves much?

All the questions that go through my mind begin to give me a headache so I just shrug and answer, "We'll see."

Apparently Nic had plans of doing absolutely nothing, as she put it, while we were lounging on the couch, "No little terrors to chase and keep up with. I'm going to relax and enjoy the peace and quiet."

I sit on the other end of the couch where she places her feet in my lap. I begin rubbing from her toes to her heel and she moaned.

"De, as much as I'd love to let you continue pampering me but don't you need to meet your parents and brother?"

I jerk my head towards her. My parents? My parents are alive? Both of them? "Uh, yea, I guess I should go to the, uh-"

"Your childhood home Dean. What has gotten into you?" She asks me sitting up and dragging her feet out of my lap. "The party isn't going to plan itself, you know."

Now, I'm confused again. "Party?"

"Sam and Jess' graduation party, duh!"

"Oh yea, that. Right." I pretend to know what she's talking about. "Wait, you aren't coming?"

"Dean," she says, exacerbated. "How many times do I have to tell you. Sam does not want me there."

I am completely caught off guard. Sammy and Nic get along. I've witnessed it. Sammy has told her that she's like the sister he never had.

"Oh, okay. Well, I guess I should head over then," I say. The thought of Sam and Nic not getting along shocks me, making me feel ill. She's the mother of my children, his niece and nephew. How can Sam not want her around?

The whole time I'm with my family at house I apparently grew up in, I can't seem to get what Nic told me out of my head. Yes, seeing my mom and dad together, as a loving couple is calming but as I look at Sam I can't help but wonder what is it that he has against her. I glance down at my hands and see a gold band on my left ring finger. Nic is my wife. Not only do we have kids together, we are married so why do she and Sam not get along?

"Dean, honey?" Mom says, bringing my attention back to the table. "I asked you if you wanted some pie. I got cherry," she tells me, knowing I can't resist pie.

"Yea, sure Mom." That sounded crazy, calling my mom Mom to her face. I haven't talked to her in 23 years yet here she was offering me pie as we discussed Sammy's college graduation.

"How's my Jules?" Dad asks me as mom heads to the kitchen. I smile at the apparent nickname my dad has for my daughter, his granddaughter.

"A firecracker, as usual," I tell him, hoping that's the right answer seeing as I don't really know my own daughter all that well.

"That's my girl," John Winchester laughs, taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee. I see Sam roll his eyes and that does it. I have to know why my own brother dislikes my wife.

"What is your problem dude?" I ask him. "What do you have against Nic?"

"Ugh, not this again Dean," Sam says, irritation thick in his voice.

"Oh please enlighten me again. Why do you despise my wife,Sam? My. Wife!" By this time, I am livid.

"You know why, Dean!" He yells at me across the table. "She wouldn't be your wife if you had just listened to me! She used you but you're so blindly 'in love'." He uses air quotes when he says in love. His admission startles me. What the hell is he talking about? How the fuck did she use me? What for, I'm just a measly hunter with hardly anything to my name.

"That's enough!" Mary Winchester states from the doorway. "Sam, she is your brother's wife and the mother of his children. You might not care for her but you will show some respect for her while under my roof."

Sam huffs and sits back, crossing his arms.

The discussion of why my baby brother has such hostility towards my wife is tabled for the time being. But I plan to bring it up again once we are away from Mom and Dad. I just can't fathom a world where Sam and Nic don't get along. One where Sam loathes the actual idea that I could not be in love with Nic.

That logic has my thought process skidding to a stop. I'm in love with Nic? Yea, okay she is damn hot and yea, we have been sleeping together. And it's true, I haven't went out looking for a release since she came into our lives. Hmmm, well I couldn't do any better, that's for damn sure. Hot, sexy as hell, great in bed, and a badass hunter who knows the life. Yea, she is the girl of my dreams.

After the party planning was complete, I left and headed toward my home with Nic. I couldn't wait to tell her I love her; that I was in love with her. Thoughts of her reaction to my declaration filled my head so that I almost rammed the car in front of me as it came to a stop at the light. I sat there surveying my surroundings while images of making love to my wife while confession my love for her permeated my brain. The people walking by on the street, the man on the bicycle, the drivers of the passing vehicles they were all faceless; all that I could see was Nicole Winchester. My wife; my lover; my friend. I smiled at the realization that I was happy with that reality. Nic was my best friend.

I didn't even realize I was staring until it was almost too late. But the girl's dull eyes caught my attention and brought me back to the present. Standing there at the corner, she was dressed in a flowing off-white dress but her skin had an ashy pallor to it and her hair was knotted and tangled. She couldn't be no more than 20 years old. Pulling to the curb, I quickly parked and jumped out to check to see if she needed help. A speeding vehicle passing by, blasting their horn causes me to look away from her to the obnoxious driver. When I return my attention to the young woman, she is no longer there. I glance around, trying to find her with no luck. Thinking maybe I just imagined it, I retreat to my car and head home.

At home, Nic is washing bottles and dancing in spot at the sink to the radio. I lean against the door jamb and watch. Her body hasn't changed much, even after two kids. Her hips are a bit wider but only someone who intimately her body, like me, would notice. Her curves are just as pronounced as before and the muscles in her calves...Mmm, call me crazy but those muscles turn me on. Feeling them squeeze around me as I'm pumping into her, yea ok let's not go there. I still have to find out what is going on with my parents being alive, Nic's dad alive, and what the hell went down between her and Sam.

She turns and is startled by me but she tries to hide it with a smile. Damn, she is beautiful; her smile lights up her whole face. I return the smile and push myself from the frame toward her. "You know how beautiful you are right now?" I ask her, watching her cheeks blush pink. She approaches me after drying her hands on a towel and tiptoes up to kiss me. "You're biased," she tells me with a giggle.

"Nope, just telling the truth," I reply, swatting her ass as she walks past me.

"Dean, what has gotten into you?"

"Just enjoying what's mine."

I follow her to the bedroom as she begins stripping off her clothes. She glances back at me as she walks, naked toward our bedroom.

I awake with a start. Laying in the same bed, I woke in earlier, I hear voices coming from inside the house; kid voices, my children. I get up and get dressed, excited to see my daughter and son again. I open the closet to get another flannel. I can't find the one from before; Nic is probably wearing it. She likes wearing my shirts, I know this because she's told me before.

The scene before me stuns me. Instead of clothes and shoes that I expect to find behind the door, I see two female corpses, tied up with ropes, hanging by their wrists. A sound causes me to turn around and I am face to face with the young girl I saw on the street earlier. Except this time she has a bleeding gash on her head. She opens her mouth to speak but suddenly she flashes and disappears. I return to the sight in my closet only to be met with the view of a normal closet. Am I losing my mind? I grab a shirt and head out to find my family, hoping that whatever is going on doesn't touch their innocent little lives.

"Honey, you sure you'll be okay watching the kids while Dad and I go to the memorial?" Nic asked me as she was cleaning up DJ's high chair. Julie was off somewhere playing quietly and my son was sitting happily on my lap, jabbering and blowing spit bubbles.

"Uh, yea definitely," I answer her but have no idea what she is talking about. "They're my kids too, ya know." I grin at her but she just stares at me in disbelief.

"I know that, Dean but today I just want to be able to mourn without worrying about my children."

"Nic, we will be fine. I promise." I internally hope that we'll be fine. I've never dealt with kids, except for Sammy when we were growing up. And that was a long time ago though.

The doorbell rings causing her to look at the time. "Geez, there's dad and I'm not even close to being ready," she says, running out of the kitchen. "Can you let him in?"

I pick my son up and place him on my to the front door, I look into the living room to see Julie engrossed in some kids program on the t.v., oblivious to anyone or anything.

I open the door to let Gary in. "Hey there, Gare. She's running a bit behind. Come on in."

"Thanks, Dean."

From the pitch in his voice and the red-rimmed eyes, I can tell he's already been grieving, but what I don't know.

"I appreciate you doing this for us, Dean," Gary tells me. "I can't believe it's already been a year. Feels just like yesterday. They still haven't figured out what caused the plane to crash. I still see Irene as she walked to her gate to board. You don't know how many times I've wished I would've told her not to go. I never thought I'd lose my wife to a plane crash. A flight she had taken numerous times!"

Oh God, Nic's mom died in a plane crash. How terrible! "Yea, yea, sure. No problem at all, " I tell him, trying to sound comforting.

"Before I forget, here's the information where well be at if you need to get in touch with us for some reason," he tells me, handing me a postcard size leaflet. I take it and look down to read it but before I can DJ begins whimpering, alerting me that he was ready for a bottle and nap.

I'm feeding our son when Nic leaves, kissing each of us and promising to be back as soon as she can. I get DJ down for a nap and Julie settled with a Disney movie I have never heard of when I remember the information sheet Gary had given me.

Picking it up the first thing I notice is the title line: United Brittania Flight 424 Remembered. Underneath is a list of names; 108 to be exact. No, no, this isn't right! Sam and I stopped that crash. It had been a phantom traveler but we exorcise it and saved the flight!

I rush to the office and flip open the laptop to begin my search.

Nine Children Comatose... Mystery illness baffles doctors at Dane County Hospital.  
Parents mutilated in bed ...Brutal double homicide in quiet residential area causes shock.  
Girl Drowns in Hotel Pool...Mother devastated after discovering daughter drowned.

Everyone of them! Everyone Dad saved; everyone Sam and I saved. Every single case we have worked for the last year and every single soul we saved gone. Just gone, like we were never there. Like we never saved them. I now knew something was up. This was not the reality I knew. This fucked up existence wasn't real. As much as I adored the fact that I was married to Nic and our children; as much as I enjoyed having my parents together, alive and well I knew I couldn't stay in this life. I had to get back to the real one. The one where Nic and I were just dating; Nic and Sam were as thick as thieves when it came to hunting and research and keeping each other, including me, safe.

I knew what I had to do. I searched all the drawers in the kitchen, finding a wooden box of silver flatware, a large knife safely tucked away. Getting lamb blood was going to be a task but there was that butcher shop right down the street, maybe I could come up with a reason to need lamb's blood.

Okay, so the butcher now thinks I'm some type of Satanist and I'm sure will warn people to stay away but if this works, I won't be here to deal with that. A niggling thought of leaving my wife and kids crosses my mind but I remind myself that Nic is back there in the real world and she's waiting for me. She's mine already and maybe one day, Julie and little DJ can exist there too.

I dip the knife into the jar of lamb's blood and watch as the excess drips off the end. There is an old wives tell that goes something like: "If you are about to die in your sleep, your body will wake you up in reaction". I just hope and pray that it's true.

I'm about to plunge the knife into my chest when my phone rings. The caller id shows Sam is calling. I put the knife on top of the refrigerator and answer.

"Hey Sammy."

He sighs in my ear. "It's Sam. Sammy is the fat kid who gets his lunch money stolen and gets stuffed in his locker," he deadpans.

I chuckle at his analogy. "Ok. Sup?"

"I was gonna head over to talk to you, if that's okay?"

"Sure. DJ's down and Julie is infatuated with some Disney movie, so come on over."

"Be there in ten."

Sam enters when I open the door and follows me to the kitchen. "So, what ya need to talk about?"

"I want to apologize," he begins. "Mom reemed me good after you left. Seems I got all my information about Nic wrong. I thought she used you to get rid of that ex who was stalking her. I thought you killed him, bro."

I'm shocked at this revelation. Even in my world, I wouldn't kill another human. Not purposefully anyways. Sure there have been the ones who were rode so hard by demons that once the evil entity fogged out, their bodies couldn't handle the stress of what had happened. But that wasn't my fault!

"Mom told me Patrick had actually been arrested and put away for stalking Nic and a few of his other exes. I'm sorry, Dean. If I made your life hell for not trusting your wife."

I am relieved to hear his confession. But it still didn't make what I had to do any easier.

"Sam, I forgive you." I tell him. "But this isn't real. This life we're living here, it's not the truth. Our lives are nothing like this. We are hunters; you and me and Nic. We hunt the things that aren't supposed to exist. We put our lives on the line daily to save people. To save the world."

"Have you been drinking Dean?" Sam looks at me bewildered. "What the hell are you talking about? We've never been hunting a day in our lives."

" 'm sorry, Sammy. I can't stay here. " I move to the fridge and grab the knife. I thrust the blade into my chest as Sam screams my name. "Dean!"

Sam screams my name again. I try to open my eyes but it takes so much energy. My shoulders are aching and there is a pinprick in the side of my neck.  
"Oh God. Come on," I hear him exclaim and then feel him shaking my body. "Hey. Wake up. Wake up, damn it! Don't you dare die. Don't you leave me and Nic!"  
I grunt a little, forcing my eyes to open and to focus on Sam.  
"Hey," Sam says, then notices I'm awake. "Hey." He smiles at me.  
"Ahh... Auntie Em. There's no place like home."  
"Thank God," Sam sighs. "I thought we lost you for a second. He reaches and pulls a tube from the side of my neck.  
"You almost did," I wheeze out, my body starting to come to and feel the ache and pain in it.  
"Oh god," he breathing heavily. "Let's get you down."  
Sam reaches up and starts to cut through the rope as I wince due to the pain and grunt a little. I see two bright blue eyes next to Sam in the shadows, and the djinn approaches him.  
" Sam! Watch out!"  
He turns around, going after the djinn with a knife. The djinn grabs Sam and gets him to drop the weapon . I try to pull myself loose, pulling on the rope that Sam had begun cutting. The djinn gets the upper hand on my baby brother and is holding him by the throat. The demon's hand is glowing blue, and he is moving it toward Sam's forehead, but Sam is struggling, pushing against his wrist and trying to stop him. The djinn opens his fist and blue light begins to appear around his hand. I fight to break the cords binding me up; I have to save Sam!  
The frayed strands finally break and I grab the knife Sam dropped.  
The djinn's blue-glowing palm is incredibly close to Sam's forehead as I grip the blade handle and thrust it into the back of the demon. The glow fades out and the djinns chin drops to its chest. I pull the knife out and watch the body drop to the ground, dead.  
Sam is having a hard time taking in breaths from being strangled and I'm sure I look close to death myself. I turn around and see the girl from my vision in my dream-state.  
I walk up to the girl amd check for a pulse. A tear rolls down one of her cheeks.  
"She's still alive! )" I tell to Sam, who finally has joined me. I hand the knife over to him and pull out the tube in her neck as Sam cuts her rope. I catch her as she comes down.  
"I gotcha. I gotcha. We're gonna get you out of here, OK? I gotcha," I try to comfort her as she makes small wheezing sounds. "I got you." 

END DEAN'S P.O.V

I'm sitting on the bed with my ankle propped up when the boys return. Dean's walks in and makes a beeline straight to me. He sits back against the headboard and grabs my hand, lacing our fingers. "Missed you sweetheart, " he says, kissing my knuckles.  
"Missed you too Dean," I look over at him. The way he is staring overwhelms me. The emotions in his eyes, staggering. I can see adoration, respect and dare I say, love, in those jade green orbs.

Sam walks into the room a few minutes later, on the phone. "OK, uh, thank you so much for the update. OK, bye." He hangs up.  
"That was the hospital. Girl's been stabilized. Good chance she's gonna pull through," he tells us.  
"That's good.," Dean confirms.  
"Yeah," he pauses, noticing us on the bed, cuddled together now "How 'bout you? You all right?"  
Dean clears his throat before answering. "Yeah, I'm all right. You should have seen it, Sam. Our lives. You were graduating college with Jess; Mom and Dad alive, still living in our house," he pauses and looks at me. "Your dad was alive."  
My eyes bug out of my head, "Really?" He nods and then pulls me tighter to him when he notices the tears.  
"So we didn't get along then, huh? Me and Nic?"  
"Nah," I can tell he is holding something back, but no clue what it could be.  
"I thought it was supposed to, to be this perfect fantasy?" Sam asks, sitting on the other bed.  
"It wasn't. It was just a wish. I wished for Mom to live. That Mom never died, we never went hunting and you and me just never uh... you know."  
"Well how did I got in on your wish. If you never started hunting, how'd we meet? How'd we know one another?"  
"Um I don't know. You were just there," he tells me but don't make eye contact. He is actually looking at Sam, having one of their silent brotherly conversations.  
"Yeah. Well, I'm glad we do. And I'm glad you dug yourself out, Dean. Most people wouldn't've had the strength, would have just stayed."  
"Yeah. Lucky me," Dean says, almost sounding reluctant. "I gotta tell you though, man. You know, you had Jess. Mom and Dad had..." he doesn't finish his sentence as he glances at me.  
"Yeah, but... Dean. It wasn't real," Sam attempts to assuage his brother.  
"I know. But I wanted to stay," he says, looking sad and lost. "I wanted to stay so bad. I mean, ever since Dad. All I c– all I can think about is how much this job's cost us." He pauses. "We've lost so much. We've...sacrificed so much."  
"But people are alive because of you. Dean scoffs as I tell him this. "It's worth it, Dean. It is. It's not fair, and you know, it hurts like hell, but it's worth it." I tell him, thinking of my own dad, missing him. Wondering why he was in Dean's dream life. Dean never even knew my dad, only pictures I'd shown him.  
Dean and Sam share another look and then Dean shakes his head, pensively, looking down. I consider asking what all the looks and private conversations were about but decide against it. I'm just happy to have Dean safe and sound, back in my arms again.


	34. Saving Sam

We turn into the parking lot of a cafe. The signage claims "Sunnyside Diner: The Best of the Best". Dean pulls up the the front and stops, shifting Baby into Park."Thank God!" I exclaim. "I'm starving. But let's get it to go so we can get back to Bobby's. I need a good shower and my bed."Both boys laugh and agree. Sam opens the door to get out."Hey, don't forget the extra onions this time, huh?" Dean says as he hands Sam some money."Dude, I'm the one whose gonna have to ride in the car with your extra onions," Sam says, grimacing. "Try kissing him," I mutter, causing Sam to laugh and Dean to throw a bitchface my way. I shrug, he knows it's true. I've complained about it before."Doesn't stop ya," Dean retorts. Sam shakes his head and exits the car. Before he can get the door shut, Dean and I both call out "Hey, see if they've got any pie." Sam glares at us and shuts the door. "Bring pie!" Dean shouts through the windshield. "I love me some pie."

"Mhm," I hum as I sit up and wrap my arms around his shoulders. "I know you do. I sometimes get jealous over it." Dean head jerks around and he stares at me. The look on his face is unreadable and I take it as maybe I crossed some imaginary boundary. "I'm kidding," I laugh and his face softens. Thank god." We watch as Sam goes into the café and begin talking to the waiter. Suddenly, the radio turns to static. I watch as Dean tries to fix it, but then it just turns off completely. When we looks back up, the inside of the café is empty. No waiter, no Sam.I unwrap my arms and grab the door handle. Dean is already out of the car and running into the café. I follow in and find a massacre. One customer at a booth is dead, face down in a puddle of blood.

Dean is walking through the diner with his gun drawn."Sam?" Dean calls out. Once he gets to the counter he looks to his right and stops. His face actually pales so I make my way over to see what he is looking lay the employees, dead with their throats steps to the back door and opens it, looking outside "Sam?!" He yells for his brother again with no answer. He looks at the door and runs his fingers across the window pane. He holds his fingers up and shows me. There is a yellow residue on them."Sulfur," we both wipes his hand off on his jeans and grabs mine, racing out the front door, back to the of getting into the Impala, Dean lets my hand go and walks to the end of the parking lot. "Sam! Sammy!"I join in, hoping if Sam hears my voice he'd answer but knowing better. "Sam? Sammy!" "SAAAAM!" I hear Dean's plea in his voice as he yells for his brother and it breaks my heart. We have to find Sam! Dean turns and looks at me and I can see the tears he is trying not to let fall.

"Call Bobby. See if there are any signs in this area," I tell him to get his mind off the fact that his brother disappeared practically right before out eyes. **Five hours later** "This is it. All demonic signs and omens over the past month," Bobby tells us, pointing to a map we have spread out on Baby's hood."Are you fucking joking? There's nothing here," Dean asks, desperation in his tone."Exactly," Bobby says looking at me and Dean. I can tell he is remorseful that he doesn't have better news."Well, come on, there's gotta be something. What about the, the, the normal, low-level stuff? You know, exorcisms, that kind of thing."

"That's what I'm telling you: there's nothing. It's completely quiet."

"Well, how the hell are we supposed to look for Sam? What, do we just close our eyes and point?"Dean's phone rings. I take a peek over his shoulder as he goes to answer. It's Ash, calling from the Roadhouse."Ash, what do you got?"Ash is telling him something but I can't hear over the noises behind us."Oh, come on, man! You've gotta give us something. We're looking at a three thousand-mile haystack here."

"Come on, I don't have time for this!" Dean hangs up his phone and says, "I guess we're going to the Roadhouse. Come on."I jump into the backseat as Dean and Bobby get into the front. We take off headed to the Roadhouse. I'm so worried about Sam that it doesn't even dawn on me that the Roadhouse is the one place I didn't want to ever see again. But when we get there, it is a sight that makes my stomach drop. Although I despise this place, I am disheartened to see what is left of the building. Most of the structure is in ashes and the rest is charred by flames."What the hell?" Dean asks as he get out of the car, Dean grabs my hand and we begin walking among the debris. Every single part of the Roadhouse has been destroyed."Nic, stay back? We don't know how stable any of this is," Dean warns me. I agree; with only have one good foot for support, it is best if I don't go in. Instead I keep to the outside, walking along the perimeter of the remains of the Roadhouse.

"Oh, my God," Bobby mumbles as he steps over pieces of scorched wall supports and beams."You see Ellen?" Dean asks him while he is combing through the ruins."No. No Ash, either."I see Dean bend down and look at something in the pile of rubble. He pulls on it and I can see it is still attached to something. Dean's face pales and I realize that it is Ash's very burnt corpse."Oh, Ash, damn it!" Dean drops the charred remains and lowers his head, in grief. I watch from afar, wishing I could get to him to comfort him. I knew Ash and Dean weren't exactly close but Dean always mourned for a minute for those he couldn't save."This is... "Bobby says, trailing off."What the hell did Ash know? We've got no way of knowing where Ellen is. Or if she's even alive. We've got no clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now, how the hell are we gonna find Sam?" Dean says, despair and hopelessness evident in the tone of his voice.

"We'll find him," Bobby tells him, trying to stay optimistic. But even I am starting to feel the anguish of not being able to find , Dean clutches his head in pain."Dean!" I yell, wishing I could get to him, hating that I can't. "Dean?" Bobby turns to see Dean groaning and doubled over, holding his head in his hands."What was that?" Bobby asks, helping Dean out of the rubble. I rush to Baby and grab a couple of beers out of the cooler in the back."I don't know. A headache?"

"You get headaches like that a lot?"

"No. Must be the stress," Dean chuckles, accepting the beer I hand him as they make it back to the Impala. Bobby declines his so I decide to drink it myself. The fear and worry about what has happened to Sam taking its toll. "I could have sworn I saw something."

"What do you mean?" I ask, worried. "Like a vision? Like what Sam gets?""What? No!" Dean balks at that idea. I know he's always joked that Sam was a freak with his ability, but he's also afraid deep down that maybe he's a freak too. "She has a point," Bobby says after sipping his beer. Dean looks at him annoyed. "I'm just saying."

"Come on, I'm not some psychic," Dean declares and then falls against the car in pain. HIs eyes are squeezed shut and his breathing is erratic. I put my hand on his back and slowly rub it, hoping to alleviate whatever is happening."Dean? Dean! Are you with me?"

"Yeah, I think so," Dean says looking at me. "I saw Sam." Then looks over at Bobby, "I saw him, Bobby.""It was a vision," Bobby says."A vision? But Dean said-" I begin but Dean interrupts me."Yeah. I don't know how, but yeah. Whew. That was about as fun as getting kicked in the fucking jewels." I stop my hand on his shoulder and look at him, scrunching my nose slightly at his metaphor."What else did you see?" I inquire."Uh... there was a bell."

"What kind of bell?" Bobby asks."Like a big bell with some kind of engraving on it, I don't know."

"Engraving?"

"Yeah."

"Was it a tree? Like, an oak tree?" Bobby asks and both Dean and I look at him, puzzled."Yeah, exactly."

"I know where Sam is," Bobby proclaims."Well where the hell is he?" I ask the old man."Cold Oak, South Dakota."We make it to Cold Oak that night. It's rainy and the ground is muddy, making it hard to get a good foothold. Bobby and Dean run on ahead of me looking between buildings and Dean is yelling Sam's name. The town looks like one of those deserted old ones in the westerns Dean loves to watch. The buildings are all derelict and abandoned. I limp and hobble along following them as close as I can. I hear Sam's voice as I catch up with Dean. Sam is standing there in the rain, beaten and battered, holding his arm. Suddenly a man in army fatigues appears behind him and I catch the flash of the blade the army man is holding.

Dean shouts, "Sam, look out!" as the man attacks Sam from behind. Adrenaline kicks in and before I know it, I take off running as fast as I can in this stupid boot. I muster what strength I have, willing it to be enough since it has been so long since I've had to use my powers and collide with Sam's attacker, sending him flying. The knife falls from his hand as he hits the ground. Army man scrambles to get up, looks down at the knife and then back to me. "Nic!" I hear Dean yell. "Watch out!" I lunge for the knife at the same time that Army man does, thankfully getting to it first.

He looks at me as we both stand and says, "Y'all are crazy. He only wants one of us and it's going to be me. I will win!" He takes off into the woods and Bobby takes off after him. I turn to see Dean hugging Sam, careful of his shoulder and arm. I limp over, the straining and stretching having overworked my muscles that were atrophied. I smile at Sam as his brother lets him go. "What the hell was that Nic?" Dean says looking at me, irritation clear on his face."What?" I ask him, surprised at his outburst. "He was going to stab Sam, possibly kill him. I did what you should've done. I saved Sam!"

"Dammit, you could've gotten killed yourself!"

"But I didn't!" I yell back at him. "I saved your brother from potential death, you asshole!" My chest is heaving and I feel like I can't catch a decent breath and my foot and ankle are burning from the exertion. I look at Sam, "Ya think we could help each other back to the car. I need to get off my foot."

"Yea," Sam huffs a laugh. "Come on, gladiator!" I wrap my arm around Sam's waist, mindful of his injury and his arm comes around under my arm, accidentally grazing the side of my breast. "Oh, sorry," he apologizes, blushing. I laugh at his reaction. "It's okay, Sam" Sam and I make it back to the Impala and help each other get into the rear seat. "Thanks for saving my life, Nic.""Hey, it's what friends do, right?"Sam smiles at me and I return it. We look through the windshield to see Bobby and Dean returning, deep in conversation. Sam looks back over at me and says, "You know you're more than a friend to me."


	35. Devil's Gate

Sam's admission surprises me. More than a friend, what the hell does that mean? He knows I'm with Dean. Well not officially but Sam has to know about us, right?

"Uh, Sam--" I begin as I look toward him. I really don't know what to say. If he's developed some type of feelings for me in the last little bit, I don't want to break his heart. Just let him down easy.

Sam sees the concern on my face and quickly interrupts me. "No, Nic, not like that! God, no! I meant I see you as a sister. I love you like a brother would love his sister. I know you're in love with Dean."

Before I can respond, Dean slides into the driver's seat and starts Baby. Bobby settles into the passenger seat and we take off back to his place. On the way to Sioux Falls, Sam informs us of what happened while he was missing.

"Who was that kid, anyway?" Bobby asks, once we are on the road.

"His name's Jake. Did you get him?"

"No, he disappeared into the woods."

"We got to find him. And I swear I'm gonna tear that son of a bitch apart."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, Van Damme. We just got you back, alright?" Dean says, staring at his brother through the rearview mirror. "Let's get you something to eat. Huh? You all want something to eat?" Each of us nod.

"I'm starving." Sam says.

Dean pulls into an all-night diner and we all scramble out of the car. Sam helps me limp along since my foot is still sore from the strenuous activity of running, tackling and wrestling Jake earlier.

The four of us sit at a table in the diner, eating.

"And that's when you guys showed up."

"That's awful. Poor Andy," I say solemnly. Andy had been a good guy caught in a bad situation; as with most of the yellow-eyed demon's chosen children.

"The demon said he only wanted one of us to walk out alive."

"He told you that?" Dean asks, before taking a bite of his burger.

"Yep," Sam pauses as the waitress walks by our table."He appeared in a dream."

"He tell you anything else?" Bobby asks.

"No. No. That was it. Nothing else," Sam shakes his head. "You know, if the demon only wanted one of us, then he's going to be pissed that Jake and I both got away?"

"Well, I mean, Jake got scared off. I'm sure he thought it was over. So now Yellow Eyes probably has Jake, what's he gonna do with him?"

"I don't know. But whatever it is, we got to stop him."

"Well, hold on. We all need to get some rest. We got time."

"No, we don't," Sam scoffs, looking at his brother.

"Sam, oceans aren't boiling, okay? Frogs aren't raining from the sky. Let's get our strength back first."

"Well did you call the roadhouse? They know anything?"

"Yeah" Dean answers wistful and looks away.

"Dean... what is it?"

Dean continues to avoid eye contact so I answer. "The roadhouse burned to the ground. Ash is dead. Probably Ellen. A lot of other hunters, too."

"Demons?"

"Yeah, we think so," I tell him. "We think because Ash found something." I take a drink of my water and look at Dean who is still quiet and looking out the window.

"What did he find?" Sam inquires, hope evident in his voice.

"I'm working on that now," Bobby speaks up.

So, the Roadhouse is just...gone?" he asks, bewildered.

"Yea," I answer. "Whatever it was that Ash uncovered must have pissed someone off enough to kill everyone inside."

"We identified Ash's remains from his watch. Who knows exactly how many and who was in the Roadhouse at the time it was burned," Bobby explains.

When we arrive back at Bobby's, I limp upstairs to shower and change clothes, seeing as I'm still covered in the mud I was immersed in when I attacked Jake and saved Sam. Dean has yet to speak to me. Well, directly to me anyway. It's been radio silence. I hear the bathroom door open as I'm rinsing my hair. I wait to see if whoever it is will say something, apologize for coming in the room while I'm showering but all I hear is nothing. No sounds at all.

I peek around the curtain and see Dean leaning against the wall beside the door. His arms are crossed and his head is lowered.

"If you're here to bitch at me some more, save it."

He lifts his head and looks at me. The torment and anguish in his eyes breaks my heart and makes me just want to comfort him, not argue and fight. His features are so bleak and somber it makes me want to cry. He holds my gaze for what seems like hours before he speaks.

"I'm sorry Nic," he says low. Clearing his throat he pushes away from the wall and walks to the edge of the shower. "I saw him go for the knife and it seemed like time stood still I knew he was going to go after you or Sam and there wasn't enough time for me to get there and stop it. If I lost either one of you, I don't know what I would've done."

I reach out and grab his hand as he stands there looking despondent. "Join me?"

Dean smiles a small smile as he squeezes then lets go of my hand to undress. I close the curtain and stand under the spray and wait for him to step into the stall.

The sight of Dean in all his naked glory takes my breath away. I mean I know what he looks like nude, I know his body almost as well as my own but it still invigorates me every damn time. He steps closer and I move to the side so he can stand under the water and hopefully wash away the remnants of today. I watch the muscles of his arms and back as he reaches up to run his hands through his wet hair.

Dean turns to me and I still see the sorrow and remorse on his face. I gently cup his cheek and smile at him. "It's okay, Dean. We're here, we're alive. It's gonna be okay.": He closes his eyes and even though he is still standing under the stream of water, I see the tear slip down his face. "I can't lose him Nic. I just can't," he whispers. I wipe the tear track off his face and pull him to me. "You won't. Sam's okay baby."

Dean opens his eyes and looks at me. He leans toward me and presses his lips to mine. Our lips meld and I feel his tongue lightly caressing my lips so I part them and let him in. He pulls my body to his, knocking me off balance since I have little support with my ankle still tender and sore. Dean slides his hands down my sides and over my ass. He picks me up by my thighs and I wrap my legs around his waist, our mouths never parting.

Dean holds me tight as he slowly lowers me onto his hard length. I moan into his mouth as he enters me, the feeling of being connected to him overwhelming. He turns and presses my back against the wall of the shower and begins to thrust into me.

After the shower romp, we actually shower together. Taking turns lathering the other with suds and sharing the water to rinse. I grab the towel as I step out of the stall and run it over my body, soaking up the moisture then wrap it around my body. I take a smaller one and envelope it around my wet locks. I hand Dean one as he exits the stall and watch as he dries off. Once he is done, he secures it around his hips and pulls me to him, putting his chin on my head. "Thank you, Nicole. For doing what I couldn't. For saving my brother."

"Dean, he's my brother too. Maybe not by blood, but he is my brother too."

I just stand there, relishing the feel of Dean's arms around me. I feel safe and protected in his embrace. He eventually loosens his grip on me, places a chaste kiss to my lips and says, "Let's get dressed and go see what they've come up with."

Downstairs, Bobby and Sam are surrounded by books in the den.

"Well, I found something. But I'm not sure what the hell it means," Bobby says, not looking up from the book in front of him.

"What is it?" Sam asks, walking over to where Bobby is.

"Demonic omens... like a frickin' tidal wave. Cattle deaths. Lightning storms. They skyrocketed from out of nowhere. Here." He points to Wyoming on a map. "All around here, except for one place... Southern Wyoming,"

"Wyoming?" Dean asks, alerting them to our presence in the room.

"Yeah. That one area's totally clean – spotless. It's almost as if..."

"What?" I ask, timidly. I'm almost afraid of the anwer.

"The demons are surrounding it," Bobby explains.

"But you don't know why?" Dean looks between the map, the book and the man who has always seemed like a father to him.

"No, and by this point my eyes are swimming. Nicole, would you take a look at it? Maybe you could catch something I couldn't."

"Yeah. Sure," I say, stepping around the guys and peering at the pages laid out on the desk.

"I got some more books in the truck," Bobby proclaims as he makes his way out of the room.

Dean and Sam continue scanning the text in other volumes of lore as I try to make heads or tails of what I am looking at.

"You know, when we were little— and you couldn't been more than 5— you just started asking questions. 'How come we didn't have a mom? Why do we always have to move around? Where'd Dad go when he'd take off for days at a time?' I remember I begged you, 'Quit asking, Sammy. Man, you don't want to know.' I just wanted you to be a kid... Just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you... Keep you safe... Dad didn't even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, you know? It's like I had one job... I had one job...And I almost screwed it up." He pauses, sighing out a deep breath. "I almost blew it. And for that, I'm sorry." Dean wipes the tears from his face. "I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. And now I guess I almost let you down, too. How am I supposed to live with that?"

Dean continues crying and I feel my tears, hot as they fall down my cheek. I walk over to him and grab his hand, lacing our fingers together, squeezing.

"You're my little brother, Sammy. God. What was I supposed to do if I lost you? He inhales sharply and looks at Sam.

"But I'm here Dean," Sam says. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"I let you down. Jake almost got you. If it hadn't been for Nic, you would more than likely be dead right now. He was going to kill you."

The brothers are interrupted when Bobby rushes back in the house, pulling Ellen by the hand, who looks very heartbroken and discouraged.

"Ellen?" We all three speak simultaneously. Ellen nods and then starts to cry.

"Ellen! Oh, God!" " I exclaim as I embrace her.

When I let her go Bobby pours a clear liquid from a flask into a shot glass then hands it to Ellen.

"Bobby, is this really necessary?" Ellen asks, taking the glass anyway.

"Just a little bit of Holy Water," Bobby says. "Shouldn't hurt."

Ellen lifts the shot glass to her mouth and swallows. "Whiskey now, if you don't mind."

"Ellen, what happened?" Dean asks. "How'd you get out?"

"I wasn't supposed to. I was supposed to be in there with everybody else," she answers the scoffs. "But we ran out of pretzels, of all things. It was just dumb luck."

She drinks the whiskey Bobby poured for her and exhales sharply. "Anyway, that's when Ash called. Panic in his voice," she pauses and sighs. "He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky-high. And everybody was dead. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes."

"Sorry, Ellen." Sam says, regret deep in his voice.

Ellen tears up. "A lot of good people died in there. And I got to live," she scoffs again then whispers, "Lucky me."

"Ellen, you mentioned a safe," Bobby questions.

"A hidden safe we keep in the basement."

"Demons get what was in it?"

"No," Ellen answers and then pulls out a map from her pocket, unfolding it and setting it down on the table. It has several black lines and X's on it.

"Wyoming. What does that mean?" Dean asks pointing to the lines.

We all look at each other, no one having an answer. Bobby goes to a shelf and grabs a large book, turning pages.

"I don't believe it," Bobby says and sets the book on a table.

"What?" Sam asks, sitting down at the table. "You got something?" Dean and I follow suit.

"A lot more than that. Each of these X's--" he points to the marks on the map. "--is an abandoned frontier church, all mid-19th century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt."

"Samuel Colt?" Dean asks. "The demon-killing, gunmaking Samuel Colt?"

"Yep. And there's more. He built private railway lines--" Bobby explains pointing to the black lines on the map. "--connecting church to church. It just happens to lay out like this." He connects the points on the map until the shape of a star is made.

"Tell me that's not what I think it is," I say, nervously.

"It's a Devil's Trap," Sam says, confirming my suspicion. "A 100-square mile Devil's Trap."

"That's brilliant. Iron lines demons can't cross," Dean says.

"I've never heard of anything that massive," Ellen speaks up, looking at the map. I nod my head in agreement.

"No one has," Bobby tells us.

"And after all these years none of the lines are broken?" Dean asks, impressed. "I mean, it still works?"

"Definitely," Sam answers.

"How do you know?"

"All those omens Bobby found. I mean the demons, they must be circling and they can't get in."

"Yeah, well..." Bobby says. "They're trying."

"Why? What's inside?" Ellen questions the old hunter.

"That's what I've been looking for," I explain. "And, uh, there's nothing except an old cowboy cemetery right in the middle."

"Well what's so important about a cemetery or... what's Colt trying to protect?"

"I don't know, unless ..."

"Unless what?" Bobby asks, looking at me.

"What if Colt wasn't trying to keep the demons out? What if he was trying to keep something in?"

"Now that's a comforting thought."

"Yeah, you think?" Dean smarts off at her.

Ellen looks at him and squints her eyes. "Boy, you might be bigger than me but I can still whip your ass."

I suppress a giggle as I see Dean sit back in his chair and hold up his hands in surrender.

"Could they do it, Bobby?" Sam asks, ignoring the stare down between his brother and Ellen. "Could they get inside?"

"This thing's so powerful, you'd practically need an A-bomb to destroy it," Bobby explains. "No way a full-blood demon gets across."

"No," Sam pauses and we all look to him. "But I know who could."

"Jake." I breath out. "You think that was the yellow eyed demon's plan all along? Get someone on his side that can get across the iron lines release whatever Colt was trying to keep in?"

"I don't know," Sam answers. "Makes sense though. He just needed one of us to do his dirty work."

"Well let's hit the road and hopefully get there before Jake and stop whatever he's going to do," Dean says standing up. "Sam and Nic will ride with me. You and Ellen can bring your truck. We might need the winch."

The five of us quickly check our guns and ammo and climb into the vehicles, ready to make the 9 hour trek to Wyoming.

We get to the old cowboy's cemetery right at dusk. The headstones standing against the evening sky gives off an eerie aura, most of them broken down from age and the environment. I visibly tremble as I look out over the field full of different shapes and sizes of the memorials. Dean notices me shiver and looks at me. "You okay?"

"Yea," I answer him, pulling myself together. "Just creepy. These graves are hundreds of years old. Who knows what's in there."

He grabs my hand and squeezes. "It'll be fine. I got your back."

"I know," I tell him, checking my gun once again. Locked and loaded, we enter the graveyard, flashlights in hand.

Night falls and without our flashlights, it would be totally dark. A gate creaks in the distance and we all hurriedly extinguish our lights and find a place to hide. Dean grabs my hand and leads me to a tall, wide tomb. I hold my breath as we watch Jake walk past headed toward the middle of the field, his own flashlight lighting the way. I watch as he walks up and stops in front of the stone building standing there.

"Howdy Jake," Sam says as he approaches Jake from behind, gun raised and ready.

Dean, Bobby, Ellen, and I all appear from the shadows, guns raised also

"Just take it easy there son," Bobby tries placating Jake

"And if I don't?" Jake asks, glancing between the five of us.

"Wait and see," Sam smirks.

"What, you a tough guy all of a sudden? What are you gonna do— kill me?"

"It's a thought," Sam says, leaning his head to the side.

"You had your chance. You couldn't."

"I won't make that mistake twice."

Jake begins to laugh.

"What are you smiling at, you little bitch?" Dean screams.

"Hey Lady, do me a favor. Put that gun to your head." Ellen shakily points her gun at her temple. "See that Ava girl was right. Once you give in to it, there's all sorts of new Jedi mind tricks you can learn."

"Let her go," Sam demands, focusing his gun on Jake.

With a trembling voice, Ellen speaks "Shoot him."

"You'll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off," Jake tells us the pauses."Everybody, put your guns down. Except you, sweetheart."

We all drop our guns, Ellen still holding hers to her head.

"Okay. Thank you." Jake turns around and pulls the Colt out of his pocket. While he is inserting it into the crypt, Dean and Bobby grab Ellen before she can shoot herself just as Sam shoots Jake in the back. Jake falls onto the ground, and Sam walks to stand over him.

Jake gasps and begins pleading with Sam. "Please... don't. Please!"

Sam looks down at his nemesis and shoots him three more times in the chest. Blood spatters onto his face. Ellen, Bobby and I walk past Sam, Bobby staring at him hard. Dean walks over glancing at Jake then looks at Sam in shock. Sam wipes the blood from his face.

We look over to the crypt as two separate engravings on the crypt spin in different directions, then stop.

"Oh no," Bobby exclaims.

"Bobby, what is it?"

"It's hell," Bobby utters.

Dean steps forward and pulls the Colt from the Crypt.

"Take cover— now!" Bobby yells.

All of us run behind tombstones as the doors to the crypt burst open, me joining Dean at the same tomb we hid behind before. A large black mass erupts from the other side and shoots outward. I sneak a peek around the stone and see demons breaching the Devil's Trap and escaping. Black demon smoke continues to pour from the crypt, with individual trails of smoke haring off in different directions.

"What the hell just happened?!" Dean yells at the others.

"That's a devil's gate. A damn door to hell!" Ellen answers back.

"Come on! We gotta shut that gate!" Bobby, Sam and I join her and begin trying to push the steel metal doors close. I lean my back against the edge of the door and push with my feet and legs.

I watch as Dean checks the Colt for bullets.

Thunder crashes overhead and I see the yellow eyed demon appear behind Dean. He flings the Colt out of Dean's hand and into his own. Dean looks astonished. I watch as he throws Dean into the air, where he hits his head on a tombstone and lies there, stunned. Blood begins trickling down his face.

Bobby, Ellen, Sam and I are struggling to close the crypt door. Sam notices my attention isn't as much on closing the door as it is the scene behind us. He looks over his shoulder and sees Dean down, and then sees the yellow eyed demon. The demon looks at Sam and smiles.

"Dean!" Sam and I both yell.

Sam lets go of the gate door and runs toward his brother. I watch as the demon throws Sam against a nearby tree. Dean is struggling to get up and the demon turns his attention toward him. The demon throws Dean against a post and approaches Dean, squatting to get right in his face. I can't hear what the demon is saying over the air whirling out of the gate, but I can tell by the look on Dean's face that whatever the demon is saying to him is terrifying. The demon stands and raises the Colt, aiming it at Dean. I gulp, afraid I'm going to witness the asshole shoot Dean.

Along with the black smoke coming from the door, I begin seeing apparitions start walking through the cemetery.

Suddenly John appears behind the demon and grabs hold of him. The body the demon had possessed falls to the ground as John holds onto the black smoke that is the demon. They begin wrestling and fall to the ground. The impact causes John to lose his grip and the smoke re-enters the body in the dirt.

The meatsuit stands only to come face to face with Dean pointing the Colt straight at him. Dean squeezes the trigger, shooting the body right in the chest. The body flashes orange and then falls to the Earth, dead.

We finally get the doors to Hell shut and Ellen and Bobby turns, surprised to see John standing there in front of his sons. John places a hand on his eldest son's shoulder and looks over to this youngest. John nods at Sam and then turns his attention back to Dean, smiling. He nods again and then steps back and vanishes in a white light.

The brothers and I stand over the demon's smoking body, looking overwhelmed.

"Well, check that off the to-do list," Dean says with a little laugh.

"You did it," Sam says, relief and satisfaction evident in his voice.

"I didn't do it alone."

"Do you think Dad really... do you think he really climbed outta hell?"

"The door was open. If anyone's stubborn enough to do it... it would be him," Dean tells his brother.

"Where do you think he is now?" Sam asks quietly.

"I don't know."

"I kind of can't believe it, Dean. I mean... our whole lives, everything... has been prepping for this, and now I..." Sam chuckles. "I kind of don't know what to say."

"I do." Dean leans closer to the body. "That was for our mom... you son of a bitch."

He stands up and pulls me to him, hugging my waist tight. I turn and put my arms around his neck. I look into his eyes and then our lips are crashing together. Dean kisses me passionately, every emotion in the kiss.

When we part, Dean looks at me and smiles, a genuine smile that I can't help but return. He begins laughing causing me to, which in turns causes Sam to. Ellen and Bobby walk over to us and smile at the three of us cackling, shaking their heads slightly.

We all begin walking toward the vehicles. Once we get there, I grab my bag out of the backseat. I wave my little first aid kit toward Dean. He leans against Baby, his legs stretched out in front of him. I stand between them and begin cleaning his forehead. Dean places his hands on my hips lightly. Once I get to the wound in his hairline, he squeezes my hips. I look into his eyes and whisper "Sorry." I inspect the gash in his head, confirming he doesn't need stitches. It's just a small cut.

When I'm done I pack the soiled gauze away and put my hands on his check. I tug his head down and kiss his hair. We pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me, his head on my shoulder.

Ellen approaches us. "Well... Yellow-Eyed Demon might be dead. But a lot more got through that gate."

"How many you think?" Dean asks.

"Hundred. Maybe two hundred. It's an army. He's unleashed an army." Sam answers.

"Hope to hell you guys are ready," Bobby says. "Cause the war has just begun."

"Well, then..." Dean says, smiling. He lets go of my hand and walks toward the back of the Impala, opening the trunk. He throws the Colt inside and closes it. Dean looks toward me and then the others and says, "...we got work to do."


	36. Seven Deadly Sins

Ellen had tracked down Jo and went off to hunt with her daughter, while Bobby had headed back to Sioux Falls to see if he could make heads or tails of what demons had escaped while the boys and I were holed up in some knock-off motel in Iowa for the time being. The last week, since Hell's Gate was opened, we have been chasing leads on demonic omens, only to come up empty. It's like the demons just disappear. Vanish, vamoose, their presence absconded as soon as we roll into town.

Sam's sitting at the rinky dink table in the room reading whatever book has caught his attention while Dean and I are perusing the pay-per-view on the television, trying to find a movie to watch and arguing over Dean's suggestions of porn. Not that I'm against it or anything but some of those shows can get pretty kinky and I'm just not a kinky kind of gal. Dean is aware of this and I know he is trying to see how flustered he can make me. It's like a game to him.

I start craving something sweet so I sit up and slide my shoes on.

"Where are you going?" Dean asks me.

"Snack machine. I want a candy bar."

"Get me some chips," Dean says, reaching for his wallet.

"I got it," I tell him with a smile, waving the wad of bills I pull from my duffle. "Sam, you want anything?"

"No, I'm good," Sam answers, not even looking up from the page of his book.

"M'Kay. Be right back."

The snack machine is located at the very end of the motel, of course. And of course, the fluorescent bulb overhead is flickering sporadically, the buzz of it loud and noisy. As I'm making the selection for a Snickers, I feel a jolt that takes my breath away. Stupid machine probably has a short and shocks whoever touches it. Stupid machine in a stupid no-name motel in the middle of a no-name town.

I grab my purchases from the dispenser and turn to head back. I jump when I realize that I'm not alone. A middle-aged man is standing there, looking at the machine over my shoulder. In my surprise, I drop the money that I had in my hand. I bend down to pick it up at the same time the stranger does. He reaches the bills first and stands up, holding them out to me.I go to take them from him and he lays his empty hand on my shoulder. "You need to please him." I look at him wearily and jerk the money from his hand, slipping it into my pocket. Keeping my eye on him until I am past him, I walk briskly back to our room. I need Dean. Like, NEED him. Need his lips on mine, need his touch, need to feel his body pressed to mine. The closer I get to the door, the more I can feel the urge to just throw caution to the wind and attack him as soon as I get into the room I'm sharing with them.

So, that's what I do. Opening the door, I walk in and see Dean relaxing on the bed, laid back on the pillows with his arms crossed and behind his head. I drop the candy bar and the chips and waltz right over to the bed. Stepping up and straddling him, I lean down and fuse our lips together. He hums happily at the assault and begins kissing me back. The feel of his tongue swiping across my lips make me groan and I open them to allow him entrance. I begin slowly grinding on him and his hands grab my hips, stopping my movements. He pulls away and peers up at me.

"Nic, what has gotten into you?" Dean whispers, glancing over toward his brother.

"I want you Dean. I need you," I tell him, continuing to grind down on his lap, feeling him get hard.

I sit up and yank my t-shirt over my head, leaving me in my white lace bra. "I want to fuck you right here, right now!" I say, leaning back in to capture his lips. I put my hands on his and remove them from my hips, dragging them to cover my breasts. Dean pulls his lips away again and I groan.

"Sam. Out. Now!" Dean says before beginning to knead my boobs and sitting up to reattach our lips, sliding his tongue through. I hear the chair scrape across the floor, then the door opens and slams and I know Sam has finally left us alone. I crush my pelvis down onto Dean's and moan as I feel the hard outline of his dick through his jeans, rubbing my core.

I grab the hem of his t-shirt and rip it up over his head, slinging it haphazardly across the room, not caring where it landed. I run my lips over his jaw, down his neck, my tongue tracing the lines on his neck. I continue my path down his torso to his buckle. My fingers are trembling with need as I work on unbuckling his belt then the button of his jeans and the zipper. As soon as I get those three obstacles clear, I pull his jean over his magnificent thighs, taking his boxers with them. I scoot back as I work his pants down his legs and off, letting them drop to the floor. HIs dick is lying hard against his stomach, drops of precum at the tip.

I lick my lips as I crawl back up and settle between his legs. I take the base in my hand and slowly pump up, twisting my wrist so my thumb slides across the tip. I run my tongue it up the vein on the underside, hearing him grunt.

I continue teasing, slowly bending over and bringing the tip to my lips, letting it slide into my mouth, swirling my tongue around and slipping it into the slit, my pussy getting wetter and wetter with every little sound he makes. I languidly begin taking in more and more of his length until I feel the head hit my throat. What I can't fit into my mouth, I pump with my hand simultaneously with the bobbing of my head.

Dean's moans and groans grow louder and louder with every movement until he unexpectedly puts his hand on my cheeks and pulls me off. "Nic, if you don't stop, I'm gonna fucking cum in your mouth and I would really rather cum in your pussy."

Hearing him talk that way makes the slick between my thighs increase and I jump up on my knees to pull my pants down and off my legs. As soon as the offending apparel is gone, I quickly climb on. I rub my slick covered cunt over his dick, the head gliding through my folds and bumping my clit. I reach down and grab him, notching the tip against my entrance and let it slide in.

Dean lifts his hips off the bed, pushing himself all the way in, gradually. The stretch creating a slow burn throughout my body. I press my forehead against his, breaths mixing as he continues rolling his hips, his dick dragging out and then back in. The casual push and pull of him inside me isn't what I want or need, so I begin to match his thrusts, domineering the movements and justifying that I want it rough and fast.

He wraps his arms around me and flips me to where I am now underneath him. He uses his knees to spread my thighs and rests between them, pressing the tip of his cock into me, barely sliding in. I look up at him to see a smirk on his face. He knows this is not what I want, I want it hard, fast and rough. He pushes himself all the way in with even thrusts that make me feel like I'm going to go crazy. I wrap my legs around his hips, heels pressing into his behind, urging him on as the fire builds in my abdomen.

Dean reaches down, unhooks one leg, pushing it up his body and deepening the angle. The head of his dick now rubbing over my g-spot, making my breath get caught in my throat. He grabs the top of the headboard for leverage before he begins rapidly plunging into me, pistoning his hips harder and faster than I've ever felt before. The coil in my lower stomach tightens and tightens until it violently snaps, making me yell out his name in a moan. He continues his movements until I come down from my high and the force of his drive is almost torturous. But something inside me tells me I can manage the pain and I keep coaxing him on.

"Harder, Dean! Faster!" I scream as he advances on. "Oh g-god, yes! De-dean, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." I keep chanting as he keeps thrusting harder and faster, sweat beading on his body, making the friction between our bodies invigorating. I feel his thrusts start to become erratic and can feel his dick throbbing inside me. "Dean, baby. Cum inside me."

My words seem to prompt his orgasm, because he stills and I can feel him inside me, pulsing and filling me with his seed.

"Dean?" I barely hear Sam's voice calling for his brother over my heart beating in my ear and Dean's labored pants.

"Dean, are y'all – you two conscious? Bobby called, and he thinks that maybe we—" Sam keeps talking until I hear him exclaim, "Oh, my god!"

I giggle as Dean lifts his head from my shoulder and looks toward his brother. "Give us 10 minutes," Dean says, out of breath.

I can't contain my giggles as Dean brings his eyes back to me. "Baby, I don't know what that was but god damn!"

We both get up and begin getting ready to head out, me busy silently whimpering as Dean gets dressed, hiding his gorgeous body under layers of clothing. He catches me and winks. "Come on before Sam leaves without us. He's probably still pissed about being kicked out of his own room."

We load up in the Impala, the guys in the front seat and me in the back, as is normal and routine. Unusually though this time, I feel there is too much distance between me and the eldest Winchester so before we even get out of city limits, I climb over the front seat and sit down between the two men. The new seating arrangement earns me a glare from Sam, who has to hurry and sweep up the papers and books he had scattered across the bench between him and his brother. I ignore his scowl and wrap my arm around Dean, laying my head on his shoulder.

"Hi," I whisper to him and smile.

"Hey, you."

"I missed you."

"Nic, you were in the back seat. Not 10 feet away," Sam complains. "And well I'm going to need a knife to gouge my eyes out. There are just some things I just do not need to be witness to."

"It was a beautiful, natural act, Sam," I tell him, chuckling and turning my attention back to the man behind the wheel. Thoughts of what Sam could've witnessed if he had entered the room just moments earlier had me squeezing my thighs together. Memories of Dean being buried deep inside causing my pussy to clench and slick to drench my panties.

Dean chuckles at me sassing his baby brother. "What's Bobby got?"

"Not much. A crop failure and a cicada swarm outside of Lincoln, Nebraska. Ahh, could be demonic omens –" Sam begins explaining but I'm not paying attention because Deans fingers on the steering wheel have peaked my interest.

"Or could just be a bad crop and a bug problem."

"Yeah, but it's our only lead," Sam points out.

"Ok. Any freaky deaths?" Dean asks.

"Nothing Bobby could find – not yet, anyway."

"It's weird, man. I mean, the night the devil's gate opened, all these weirdo storm clouds were sighted over how many cities?" Dean sighs, taking his left hand of the wheel and running it through his hair, my eyes glued to every movement. Dean catches my gaze and raises an eyebrow in silent question. I just shrug and look back toward the road.

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen? You'd think it would be "Apocalypse Now," but it's been five days and bupkis. What are the demons waiting for?"

"Beats me," Sam mutters.

"It's driving me crazy. I tell you, if it's gonna be war, I wish it would just start already."

"I don't know, man. Be careful what you wish for." Sam warns as Dean presses the gas pedal, the Impala lurching down the empty highway.

We pull up outside a farmhouse on the outskirts of Lincoln, Bobby leaning on his old Nova in the driveway. I follow Dean out the driver's side of the car. The air filled with the sound of cicadas. I stand beside Dean, slipping my hand into his and lacing our fingers together, hugging his arm.

"Hear those cicadas?" Sam asks

"That can't be a good sign," Dean says.

"No. No, it can't."

Bobby steps up to the three of us.

"Bobby, what do you think? We got a biblical plague here or what?"

"Well, let's find out. Looks like the swarm's ground zero." Bobby says, turning and walking up the steps to the front door.

Dean knocks and yells out, "Candygram!" making me laugh. He grins at me and when we realize there isn't going to be an answer steps back, taking me with him so Sam can pick the lock.

As the door; a horrible stench hits us and we cover our noses in disgust.

"That's awful!"

"That so can't be a good sign," Dean says, trying not to gag.

I follow Dean inside, Sam behind us with a gun drawn. We creep through the house; stopping in the second room. Muffled panicked screams now fill the air.

"You hear that?" Sam whispers.

Dean kicks open the next door. We walk in to find that the sounds are coming from a television set. A family of three is seated on the couch, every single one of them dead, and had been for several days at least. The stench being the worse in the one room.

"Oh, my god," Sam and I sigh in unison.

Bobby enters through the other side of the room and recoils in horror from the odor and the sight before him.

"Bobby, what the hell happened here?" Sam asks.

"I don't know," Bobby says through the handkerchief he holds over his mouth and nose.

"Check for sulfur," Dean tells us and we all disperse, looking for traces of the signs of a demonic presence.

Dean whistles quietly, then signals to us that he's going to go check it out. Bobby and Sam circle around the other direction, leaving me in the room with the corpse family.

I look at them and shudder. They look gross and disgusting but still they look like they just sat there and died. Just sat there watching television, like a normal family, and just didn't get up. I hear a commotion outside and leave the room, drawing the gun up and making my way to the door.

Out front, I am confused and puzzled by the scene. Dean is laying on the ground holding his nose, while Bobby and two strangers stand over him chatting.

"I could ask the same," I hear Bobby say.

"Heya, Bobby," the man says, none of them paying any mind to the man beneath them.

Dean raises an arm, waving it in the air. "Hello. Bleeding here."

"Dean!" I cry as I click the safety back on my gun and slip it into the back of my jeans. I run over and land on my knees, carefully helping him sit up. I remove his hand and check the damage to his face. Thankfully, it's only a little blood, nothing broken. I throw my arms around his neck and pull him to me, accidentally pressing his nose into my shoulder.

"Ow!" Dean yelps.

"Sorry! Sorry Dean," I mutter, standing up and helping him off the floor. "Let's go get you cleaned up." I take his hand and lead him to the back door of the Impala. Reaching in, I grab my bag and pull the first aid kit out. I take out some gauze and pour a bit of water from my water bottle to moisten it. Tenderly, I begin wiping off the blood that was dried on his face and upper lip. Once it was all cleaned up, I wadded the gauze into a ball and stuffed it into my pocket.

"Keeping that?" Dean questioned, his eyebrow quirked.

"Haha. No, I don't want to just toss it and some cop find it and test it. That would connect you to this place. No loose ends, right?" I kiss the end of his nose gently, making sure not to hurt him again.

"Yea," he answers, turning his head toward the three men and one woman walking in our direction.

"We're following Isaac and Tamara back to their hideout," Bobby explains. "See if we can't figure out together what the hell is going on. Sam already called this in so we need to move out."

"Ok," Dean nods and heads toward the driver's side. I follow him right up to the door and crawl in, settling in the middle of the seat. Dean shrugs at his brother and slides in beside me, turning the ignition and revving Baby's engine.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Isaac and Tamar's hideout is only a few miles from the farmhouse where the family sit down and died. It was modest looking family home on the outside. Wooden siding with blue-gray shutters, single paned windows and a solid oak front door. A typical family home, not at all looking like a hideout for demon hunters. It was perfect.

Sam, Dean and I and Bobby follow the couple inside, mesmerized by the array of hunting tools and instruments. Machetes, knives of all shapes and sizes, the number of guns daunting and enough ammo to kill all the sons of bitches out there two times over.

Tamara sees me gazing over the lot and smiles. "It's a lot to take in, I know. We've been hunting for so long, I forget that this can scare off most people."

"Yea, but I run with the Winchesters. I've seen more stuff than most see in their lifetime. I'm just amazed at the amount of weapons you have."

"Well, you never know what you're going to come across. Best to be prepared for anything, eh?"

"Yea," I say and head back toward Dean and the others. Sam, Bobby and Isaac are discussing something on the opposite side of the room but Dean is nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Dean?" I ask, walking up to Sam's side.

"On the phone with the coroner's tech. Trying to get some information on that family. See if we can find out what kind of monster we are dealing with," Sam explains, then looks to Isaac and Tamara. "So, how long you two been married?"

"Eight years this past June," Tamara answers, smiling lovingly at her husband.

"The family that slays together…" Isaac trails off, looking at his wife.

"Right. I'm with you there. So, how'd you get started?" Sam's question is met with an awkward silence and I watch as Tamara and Isaac look at one another, probably silently sharing memories of a horrible experience.

"I, uh, you know... I'm sorry. It's not – that's none of my business," Sam says, clearing his throat.

"No, no. It's – it's all right," Tamara answers softly. But before she goes further, she is cut off by Dean entering the room, on the phone, plainly flirting with whoever is on the other end. I can feel my blood boil and I see red. I stalk over to stand in front of him and stare at him, hard. He looks up at me with a confused look, like he doesn't understand why I'm standing there glaring at him with my arms crossed.

Dean finishes up his phone conversation. "Well, Jenny, if you look as pretty as you sound, I'd love to have an ... "appletini'," he makes a face at the word. "Yeah. Call you." He hangs up, glancing at me and my look of disapproval before addressing the group. 'What?' he words and then steps toward Bobby and Sam. "That was the coroner's tech."

"And?" Sam inquires.

"Get this – that whole family, cause of death? Dehydration and starvation," Dean says in disbelief. "There's no signs of restraint, no violence, no struggle. They just sat down and never got up."

"But there was a fully stocked kitchen just yards away," Bobby wonders.

"Right. What is this, a demon attack?" Sam asks the room.

"If it is, it's not like anything I ever saw, and I've seen plenty," Bobby answers.

"Well, what now? What should we do?" Dean looks at each face in the room, including mine even though I am full on ignoring him now. He was actually flirting with some bitch on the phone, right in front of me! I'm so pissed I could explode.

"Uh, "we're" not gonna do anything," Isaac says, like it's nothing new.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks him.

"You guys seem nice enough, but, this ain't "Scooby-Doo," and we don't play well with others."

"Well, I think we'd cover a lot more ground if we all worked together," Sam says, incredulously.

"No offense, but we're not teaming with the damn fools who let the Devil's Gate get opened in the first place," Isaac explains.

"No offense?" Dean huffs.

Tamara looks at her husband. "Isaac! Like you've never made a mistake," she admonishes.

"Oh yeah, yeah. Locked my keys in the car, turned my laundry pink. Never brought on the end of the world, though," he says, eyeing Sam and Dean.

"All right. That's enough!" I yell. It's one thing for the brothers to tear each other down or even for me to tear into one of them for some stupid mistake they made. But for a stranger, a hunter we met less than a day ago, to do it, THAT is where I draw the line.

"Guys, this isn't helping. Nic--," Sam says trying to diffuse the tension in the room.

"Look, there are couple hundred more demons out there now. We don't know where they are, when they'll strike," Isaac relents. "There ain't enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us – on all of us."

"Okay. that's quite enough for now." Tamara says, pulling her husband out of the room. Dean looks between his brother, Bobby and me, trying to figure out what our next move is. We all know that what Isaac said was true. We opened the gate to hell, we let hundreds of demons out into this world but what he doesn't realize is we are going to work our asses off to make sure that those that escaped get put back where they belong with as little carnage as possible, even if it kills us.

Before any of us can say anything, Tamara comes running back in. "We just got a call. Woman killed outside a department store downtown." The four of us follow her and Isaac to town, each going in different directions to see what information we can find out. Bobby mumbles something about "needing to look the part' and rambles off down the street, Sam pretends to be a passerby and starts unofficially interviewing witness while Dean and I walk into the store. As soon as we enter, a young blonde woman apparently an employee there going by the name tag on her shirt, 'Bridget' walks right up to Dean and begins chatting him up. He seems to enjoy it, smiling and keeping up with her dimwit conversation. I can't stand to see him flirting so blatantly so I step further inside the store, browsing the clothing and garments the store offers.

I see Sam approach his brother and hear him clear his throat, getting the attention of Dean and little miss bimbo clerk.

"Excuse me a minute, would you?" Dean says, laying his hand on her shoulder. At this point, I'm seeing red and can vividly describe ten ways to make her disappear.

"Sure," she says, eyeballing Sam and then looking back at Dean with a wink and a smile. Bitch, back off!

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam asks astonished at Dean's behavior. Sam glances at me and throws me a smile of pity. He knows what his brother is doing is getting to me. I'm sure he can see it in my eyes.

"I was just carrying on a conversation," Dean shrugs, like it's no big deal that bimbo clerk was practically inviting him to ravage her, right here in the store. "What are you doing?"

"Workin'. Dead body, possible demon attack – that kind of stuff," Sam says, reminding Dean of our reasons to be here.

Bobby walks past us. He's dressed in a fancy suit, with his hair slicked back and his beard actually looks groomed. I'll admit Bobby really went all out with "looking the part". I am impressed beyond belief.

Dean whistles lowly. "Whoa. Looking spiffy, Bobby. What were you, a G-man?"

"Attorney for the D.A.'s office," Bobby explains. "I just spoke to the suspect."

"Yeah? So, what do you think? Is she possessed or what?" Sam asks.

"Don't think so. There's none of the usual signs – no blackouts, no loss of control," Bobby says, shaking his head. "Totally lucid. Just, she really wanted those shoes. Spilled a glass of holy water on her just to be sure; nothing."

"Maybe she's just some random whack job," dean suggests. I roll my eyes. I'm sure he's hoping it's not a case so he can go off and find bimbo clerk. I look around and see her string at us so I casually walk over and pull Dean's arm over my head, placing it around my shoulders and wrapping mine around his waist. Take that! Dean looks down at me, questioningly. I smile demurely and turn back to Bobby.

"If it had been an isolated incident, maybe, but first the family, now this? I believe in a lot of things. Coincidence ain't one of them. Did you guys find anything around here?"

I shake my head as Sam says, "No sulfur, nothing."

"Well, maybe something," Dean says as he nods to a security camera in the ceiling and then looks to his brother. "See? I'm working."

I roll my eyes. Yea he was working alright. Working on trying to get that dumb bitch's number right the fuck in front of me. I had noticed the camera too but hadn't brought it up yet. I had an inkling of an idea of what was going on and I didn't know why I knew it but I didn't question it. Just went on, business as usual.

I roll my eyes. Yea he was working alright. Working on trying to get that dumb bitch's number right the fuck in front of me. I had noticed the camera too but hadn't brought it up yet. I had an inkling of an idea of what was going on and I didn't know why I knew it but I didn't question it. Just went on, business as usual.

Bobby goes over and talks to bimbo clerk and gets us access to the security office so we can watch the events as they happened on screen. Sam sits down in front of the monitor and begins pressing buttons and suddenly the store's interior from this morning comes onto the display. Several women are milling about, browsing the store's selections. Bobby points out the suspect and we watch as she moves through the store. She stops to view a shirt when a man walks up to her. I recognize him as the same man I encountered at the snack machine the night before last.outside the motel room.

"Might just be a guy…" Sam says as we all watch the man approach our suspect and lay his hand on her shoulder. His lips are moving but the words can't be heard. "Or it might be our guy."

Sam presses a few more button and a printer jumps to life in the corner of the room.

Armed with a printout of the man, we each make our way out of the store to begin canvassing to find out who this mysterious man is. I watch Sam head down the street one way and Bobby takes off the other. Dean and I slide into Baby and begin driving around, going to different establishments, asking for information about the man in the photo.

After a grueling hour of no answers, I finally talk to someone who knows the guy. His name is Walter and he seems to always gravitate toward a bar on the east side of town. I rush back to Baby, calling Bobby on the way, telling him what I found out. Dean is leaning against the top of the Impala and looks toward me as I approach. I relay the same information to him and we jump in, going back to the hideout to meet Bobby and come up with a plan.

DEAN LEANING HERE

Bobby, Dean, and I sit outside The Old Terminal Pub, the bar Walter is supposedly known to visit frequently. The windows in Bobby's old Nova are wet from the rain that passed through the area an hour ago and the damp pavement reflects the neon lights from the signage above the bar. We watch as a few people of different ages enter the pub, no one paying attention to us.

It's quiet for a long time until Bobby breaks the silence. "What time is it?"

Dean looks at his watch and answers, "Seven past midnight."

"You sure this is the right place?"

"No. But we spent all day canvassing this stupid town with this guy's stupid mug, and, supposedly, he drinks at this," Dean pauses, waving his hand toward the building." ... stupid bar".

Suddenly, there is a loud pounding on the window causing us all to jump. I look out the window and see Sam smiling trying not to laugh at us. I open the door and he lifts my seat, slipping into the backseat with his brother.

"That was so not funny!" Dean berates him.

"Yeah. Uh, all right," Sam chuckles. "So, John Doe's name is Walter Rosen. He's from Oak Park, just west of Chicago. Went missing about a week ago."

"The night the Devil's Gate opened?" Dean asks.

"Yeah."

"So you think he's possessed?" Dean asks no one in particular.

"Well, it's a good bet," Sam says solemnly. So, what, he just walks up to someone,touches them, and they go stark raving psycho?"

"Those demons that got out at the gate – they're gonna do all kinds of things we haven't seen," Bobby explains, looking between me in the front seat and the brothers in the back.

"You mean the demons we let out."

Dean speaks up, looking past me and Bobby and out the windshield. "Guys." We turn to see Walter getting out of his car and walking towards the bar.

"All right. Showtime." Dean says, making a move to get out of the car.

Bobby stops him by saying, "Wait a minute."

"What?"

"What'd I just say?" Bobby admonishes. "We don't know what to expect out of this guy. We should tail him till we know for sure."

"Oh, so he kills someone and we just sit here with our junk in our hands?" Dean asks and for some reason I get a fluttering in my stomach and between my thighs at the thought of his "junk". Weird.

"We're no good dead!" Bobby breaks my thoughts. "And we're not gonna make a move until we know what the score is."

"Hey, Bobby? I don't think that's an option," Sam suggests.

"Why not?"

Sam nods toward a car that has just entered the lot. We watch as Isaac and Tamara head into the bar.

"Damn it!" Bobby exclaims, hitting his palm on the edge of the steering wheel.

We sit there, waiting to see if Isaac and Tamara exit the bar, hoping that they were just passing through, getting a drink but then the outside lights all begin flickering and we know that they need our help inside.

Bobby jumps out of the car and Dean follows, running toward the front door of the club. Sam and I watch as they slam themselves against the door, trying to force it open. I jump into the driver's seat and start the engine. "Sam, hold on tight. We going to bust this place wide fucking open!" I pull out of the space and drive up to the front, yelling out the window. "Bobby, climb in. Dean, on the hood!" They look at one another, shrug and the do as I say. Bobby jumps into the passenger seat and Dean sits on the front of the car, feet on the bumper. I turn as if I'm leaving the place and stop, shifting into reverse.

With a screech of tires, Bobby's car bursts backwards through the front door of the bar. Dean jumps off the hood as Bobby and then Sam jump out, armed with holy water. They fling it violently into the crowd of demons. The demons retreat enough for Sam to grab Tamara, who is still screaming frantically for Isaac..

"Come on, we got to go! He's dead! Get in the car!" Sam coaxes Tamara until she is seated behind me in the backseat. I look to see Dean still immersed in fighting a couple of demons.

"Dean, come on!" I yell as Sam climbs in behind the passenger seat to sit and hold Tamara who is mourning her husband.

"DEAN! COME ON!" Bobby yells as he reaches the open passenger door and goes to climb in the back with Sam and Tamara.

Dean is now fighting Walter, our demonic suspect. He opens the trunk just as he runs out of holy water; I watch through the side mirror as Dean overpowers him and stuffs him in the trunk, which I know is inscribed with a devil's trap. I hear Walter scream as he realizes he is stuck. Dean tumbles into the front seat of the car. "Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go!"

I shift into drive and speed out of the huge hole where the door used to be. Looking through the mirror I see the other demons staring after us, black-eyed and panting. I drive back to the hideout and we all climb out of the car. I hand the keys to Bobby and he smiles. "Good thinking, kid." I grin at the compliment and watch Dean toss Walter over his shoulder and carry his limp, unconscious body into the house.

I help Dean tie Walter to a chair under a devil's trap on the ceiling then we walk into the next room where an argument is taking place.

"And I say we're going back – now!" Tamara screams, her voice full of heartache.

"Just hold on a second!" Sam tries to reason with her.

"I left my husband bloody on the floor!" she yells.

"Okay, I understand that, but we can't go back," Sam tells her calmly.

"Fine," Tamara concedes. "Then you stay. But I'm heading back to that bar."

Dean steps up. "I'll go with her." I look at him like he's grown an extra head. We barely made it out of there alive, we left those demons pissed and vengeful and he's talking about going back there, willingly?!

"It's suicide, Dean!" Sam says. At least he has some sense about himself, I think quietly.

Dean shrugs so Sam continues to try to reason with him now. "How you gonna kill 'em? Can't shoot 'em. You can't stab 'em. They're not just gonna wait in line to get exorcised!"

Tamara speaks up. "I don't care!'

"We don't even know how many of them there are!" Sam says, getting agitated.

Bobby enters holding a book. "Yeah, we do. There's seven. Do you have any idea who we're up against?"

"No," Dean says, looking at the old hunter. "Who?"

"The seven deadly sins, live and in the flesh!"

Dean suddenly bursts out with "What's in the box?!" and we all turn to look at him in confusion.

"Brad Pitt? "Se7en"? No?" I shake my head at his antics. We're fighting for our lives here and he's quoting movie scripts? I look over at him and smile. He is handsome though. Really handsome. And strong. And sexy as hell. Ok, Nic, get your mind back in the game.

Bobby tosses the book to Dean. "What's this?"

"'Binsfeld's Classification of Demons,'" Bobby explains. "In 1589, Binsfeld ID'd the seven sins – not just as human vices but as actual devils."

"The family – they were touched by Sloth. And the shopper…"

"That's Envy's doing – the customer we got in the next room. I couldn't suss it out at first, until Isaac. He was touched with an awful Gluttony."

"So that leaves us with Lust, Pride, Greed, and Wrath," Sam says.

"I don't give a rat's ass if they're the Three Stooges or the Four Tops! I'm gonna slaughter every last one of them!" Tamara proclaims.

"We already did it your way. You burst in there half-cocked and look what happened!" Bobby says to her. "These demons haven't been topside in half a millennium! We're talking medieval, Dark Ages! We've never faced anything close to this! So we are gonna take a breath…" Bobby pauses, and then shouts. "And figure out what our next move is!"

Tamara stares him down until Bobby breaks and whispers,. "I am sorry for your loss."

Tamara gets emotional and walks out of the room. Bobby exits the room, headed toward the place Walter a.ka. Envy is tied up.

Dean, Sam, and I just look at one other and then follow.

Envy is chuckling up at Bobby as we enter. "So you know who I am, huh?"

"We do. We're not impressed," Bobby snarks. Envy just stares at him, no response.

"Why are you here? What are you after?" Sam asks and again, silence.

"He asked you a question. What do you want?" Dean demands.

Envy chuckles condescendingly; Dean opens a flask of holy water and splashes it on him.

"Ya! Ahh! Ungh ... We already have ...what we want," the demon pants.

"What's that?" Dean asks, threatening to splash him again.

"We're out. We're free. Thanks to you, my kind are everywhere. I am legion, for we are many," Envy chuckles. "So me, I'm just celebrating. Having a little fun."

"Fun?" I ask, confused. I know this man. This was the same man who helped me at the motel back in Iowa. He picked up my dropped cash and handed it to me and let me go on my way. How he is evil, I have no idea.

"Yeah. Fun. See, some people crochet. Others golf. Me? I like to see people's insides ... on their outside."

"I'm gonna put you down like a dog," Tamara threatens as she walks into the room.

"Please," Envy scoffs and then laughs. You really think you're better than me. Which one of you can cast the first stone, huh? What about you, Dean? You're practically a, a walking billboard of gluttony." Dean nods, in acknowledgement. "Nicole, you." He turns his attention to me and I stand there, wide-eyed, wondering what he is going to call me out on. "You are a shining example of lust. The things you desire. Hmm, they even make demons blush. Naughty, naughty girl," He smiles lewdly. "And Tamara. All that wrath. Oohh!" He clicks his tongue, tsking.. "It's the reason you and Isaac became hunters in the first place, isn't it? It's so much easier to ... drink in the rage than to face what really happened all those years ago."

Tamara's face twists in anger, and she walks over to him, smacking him hard, twice. Dean and Bobby pull her back.

"Aah! Whew!" Envy laughs. "My point exactly. And you call us sins. We're not sins, man. We are natural human instinct. And you can repress and deny us all you want, but the truth is, you are just animals. Horny... greedy... hungry... violent animals. And you know what? You'll be slaughtered like animals, too." He pauses and looks at each of us. "The others – they're coming for me."

"Maybe. But they're not gonna find you... 'cause you'll be in hell." Dean says, leaning down right in the demon's face. "Someone send this clown packing."

"My pleasure," Tamara says, stepping up and picking the open book off the table.

She begins reading the exorcism as the rest of us walk out. "Exorcizamus te, Omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica...

We hear Envy scream as she finishes.

"I don't think we're gonna have to worry about hunting them," Bobby says, his back to us.

"What does that mean?" Sam inquires.

"I think maybe this joker's right. They're gonna be hunting us," Bobby says, turning to look at the three of us.His adopted, but not really adopted, children. "And they're not gonna quit easy."

"You guys, why don't you take Tamara and head for the hills? I'll stay back, slow them down, buy you a little time."

"God Dean," I say, turning to look at him. "Quit being so hellbent on saving everyone else. You are worth being saved too!"

"You're insane, Dean," Sam agrees. Just listen to Nic. Listen to us, okay?"

"They're right.," Bobby says. "We have to stay together, fight together!"

"There's six of them, guys," Dean argues. "We're outmanned, we're outgunned. We'll be dead by dawn."

"Maybe, but ... there's no place to run that they won't find us," Bobby says..

"Look, if we're going down, we're going down together, all right?" Sam proclaims.

"Well let's not make it easy for them," Dean concedes, grabbing my hand, lacing our fingers together and squeezing.

From the other room, there is a final scream and the house shakes. A gust of wind blows out the candles as Tamara slams the book shut, walking into the room and sitting it down.

"Demon's out of the guy."

"And the guy?" Sam asks, hopeful.

"He didn't make it," she answers nonchalantly and then leaves. We follow her and watch as she begins gathering up salt, gallon bottles marked 'Holy Water' and any other weapon to use against the army coming for us. We help her carry it all out to the main room and begin putting it together. I take the salt and lay lines across each windowsill and doorway to block the demons from entering.

The guys begin loading the guns with ammo and pouring the holy water into individual containers. When we are down to the last few items, the lights flicker and a radio across the room comes to life, an old church hymn playing.

Dean cocks the shotgun in his hand and looks at us. "Here we go."

We hear Isaac's voice, outside yelling for his wife. "Tamara! Tamara! Tamara! Tamara! Help me! Pleeeeeeease! " She looks back at Bobby, sadly and then out the window again. "Tamara! I got away, but I'm hurt bad! I need help!" The demon wearing Isaac continues yelling.

Bobby walks over to her. "It's not him. It's one of those demons. It's possessing his corpse."

Isaac's body starts pounding on the door.

"Baby! Why won't you let me in? You left me behind back there. How could you do that? We swore ... At that lake in Michigan. Remember? We swore we would never leave each other!"

Tamara sobs and turns to look at us. "How did he know that?" she asks, morosely.

"Steady, Tamara. Steady, Tamara, steady, steady..." Bobby says, seeing her composure crumbling.

"You just gonna leave me out here? You just gonna let me die?!" The demon wearing Isaac as a meatsuit bellows. "I guess that's what you do, dear! Like that night those things came to our house... came ... for our daughter! You just let her die, too."

That sets Tamara off. She screams, "You son of a bitch!" as she opens the front door, breaking the salt line.

"Tamara, no!" Bobby yells, but it's too late. We watch as she tackles Isaac's body down the steps, landing on top of him and raising the Palo Santo stake.

"You're not Isaac!" she cries and plunges the wood deep into his chest; it sizzles, and he screams.

The other demons cross the broken salt line and enter the house. We all begin to back away and then take off in different directions. Dean grabs my hand and begins pulling me down the hall. His hand in mine feels wonderful. I begin imagining what his hands could do to me. I lean close to him and whisper in his ear, "I want you to tie me up, put a leash on me, and make me your dirty little whore daddy." Dean's eyes widen as he looks at me. I smile suggestively

at him. Dean is completely caught off guard by my request. His furrows his brow before the realization dawns on him. Dean backs away from me but I keep stepping closer until he backs himself into a wall.

"I suppose you're infected with Lust," Dean says.

"Baby, I'm whatever you want me to be," I say seductively. I lean in and run my tongue over the shell of his ear. "You know you want me. You know how good this body feels under you, on top of you. However you want me."

"How, Nic? How did they get to you? Why?!"

"I want you baby. I want you to fuck me into oblivion as many ways as you can. And I'm sure with all the experiences you've had, one-night stands and whatnot, you know of many many positions. Let's try them all."

"Yeah, all right, just stay back," Dean says, putting his hands up in front of him.

"Aw, Dean. You know you don't want that. You know you want me to--," I press my body up against him, our bodies touching from our torsos to our thighs. "--put this body all over you. My pussy is aching for you to fill it up. C'mon big boy, fill my pussy full!" Dean tries to resist my touch and smacks my hand away as I try to cup his cheek. "I'm not gonna hurt you – not yet," I tell him, my voice an octave lower than normal. "Not unless you want me to." I run a hand along his shoulder and he looks down at me. He falls into my arms and I kiss him passionately. My tongue fighting for dominance over his, my hands and fingers touching every bit I can reach. I cup the bulge in his pants and lightly rub my palm against his erection. He moans into my mouth and I can't hold back the smile. "You know you want me, just admit it and you can have me."

"I want Nicole. That's who I want," Dean says, pushing me away. "Go to hell, bitch!" He begins chanting the exorcism and I can feel whatever is inside me begin fighting against to expulsion. Suddenly, I feel a snap and I open my eyes. I look at Dean and he gazes at me like he is frightened. I look around and don't recognize anything. The room we are in, the decor, the furniture they're all strange to me.

"Where am I? Dean, what happened?" I cry as he wraps me into his arms.

"You were infected with lust. One of the seven sins," he explains to me.

"But," I protest. "I can't be possessed! That's why those demons kidnapped me when they killed my father."

"It wasn't a possession per say," Dean tries to explain. "Somehow you were touched and infected with lust and your instinct was to lust after whatever you wanted. Which turns out to be me as a matter of fact," he smirks.

"Oh god!" I exclaim, hiding my face in my hands.

Dean laughs. "Don't be embarrassed. I thought it was hot!" He pauses, thinking. "Hey Nic, uh, do you remember the sex back at the motel in Iowa?"

"We didn't have sex in the motel in Iowa," I laugh. "We shared the room with Sam."

Dean rolls his eyes and mutters, "Of course."

"What?"

"When you got back from the snack machine, your practically attacked me and announced to the room that you wanted to fuck me."

"What?" I say astonished. "No I didn't." I deny it but come to think , I can't remember anything after the snack machine. "Oh my god! I've been infected this whole time?"

"Seems that way."

"What is it Dean?" I can tell by the look on his face, he's holding something back. He drops his chin to his chest and I crane my neck to look into his eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Just," he pauses, sighing. "I didn't know. I didn't recognize it. You were all over me and I just went with it. You should hate me. You should want as far away from me as possible."

My heart breaks hearing him confess and apologize. "Dean, no! There was no way for you to know. Did I do something totally out of character? Like something I'd never ever do?"

"No, not really. Just the need to be as close to me as possible."

"Well, then how were you supposed to know?"

"I just should have."

I grab Dean's chin and lift his head until his eyes meet mine. "Listen to me Winchester. I've told you this once and I tell you again. I love you and I want to be with you. This just made me a bit more vocal about it, okay?"

Before he can answer we hear Sam yells "Wait!" We take of running, thinking he is begging for his life.When we get to Sam he is in a room with three dead bodies. I look around amazed that Sam fought off and killed three demons by himself. "Whoa!"

I watch Dean and Sam dig a shallow grave in the yard behind the house. Once it is deep enough, they walk back in and begin carrying out the dead bodies of the people the demons had possessed and Sam had killed, including Walter. While they are doing that, I walk across the way and stand by Tamara, who has built a funeral pyre to salt and burn Isaac's body. I watch as she says a silent prayer and then lights the bottom of the pyre, flames climbing quickly, engulfing the body of her dead husband.

"Tamara, I'm so sorry," I say, standing beside her.

"Thank you," she says, a small smile on her face as she glances at me. "Sorry you were infected."

I huff a laugh. "I'm glad I don't remember a damn thing."

We stand there, together, until Isaac's body is incinerated, nothing but ash left. She walks away, back toward the house and I join Bobby and the boys.

"Any survivors, Bobby?" I ask.

Other than you? The heavy guy, he'll make it. Lifetime of therapy bills ahead, but, still…"

"That's more than you can say for these poor bastards," Dean says looking into the pit of dead carcasses.

"Bobby, that knife – what kind of blade can kill a demon?" Sam had been saved by a mysterious blonde who wielded a knife that had killed the three demons attacking him.

"Yesterday, I would have said there was no such thing," Bobby answers.

"I'm just gonna ask it again – who was that masked chick? Actually, the more troubling question would be, how come a girl can fight better than you?" Dean asks, looking at his brother with a smile.

Sam chuckles, "Three demons, Dean. At once."

Dean slaps Sam on the shoulder and then drapes an arm around mine. "Hey, whatever it takes to get you through the night, pal."

"Yeah, well, if you want a troubling question, I got one for you," Sam says, forlorn.

"What's that?"

"If we let out the seven deadly sins, what else did we let out?"

We look at each other, none of us having an answer.

"You're right. That is troubling," Dean says and he lets go of me, pulls a book of matches out of his pocket, lights it and tosses it into the pit.

Once the fire is out we begin loading up and I look over to see Bobby talking to Tamara at her vehicle. She nods and gets in, driving off. Bobby rambles over to us. "Keep your eyes peeled for omens. I'll do the same."

"You got it," Dean says, shutting the trunk.

"Wait, Bobby. We can win this war. Right?"

Bobby pauses and looks at each of us. He looks conflicted and then answers, "Catch you on the next one."

We watch Bobby walk to his car, slide into the driver's seat and speed off down the dirt road, a trail of dust behind him.

"So, where to next?" Sam asks.

"I think it's time for a little break," Dean says, flipping the keys to the Impala in his hand. "Nic needs it, I need it and hell Sam, it'll do you good to get your nose out of those books for a bit."

I look at Dean with gratitude. Although I don't remember the last couple of days, I would enjoy a few off, just to recuperate and rest. Dean walks to the driver's side and opens the door. He motions with his head for me to climb in so I walk over and slide into the middle of the bench seat, watching Dean get in and Sam walk around the front of the car and slide in beside me.

"This isn't going to be an everytime thing is it?" Sam asks, trying to get comfortable between me and the door. I chuckle and shake my head no.


	37. Dean Has A Kid!

I sit at the table with Dean in this truck stop diner, waiting for Sam. We had left his ass at the hotel across the street, telling him to meet up for breakfast. I see him crossing the parking lot with a couple of newspapers in his hands. Sam has been searching non-stop for cases since we escaped from the seven deadly sins.

Well, they escaped. I unfortunately had been infected with lust, which led me to act out of character toward Dean. From the stories he told me, I had been all about being with him. Nothing super out of the ordinary there but I was adamant about being with him and apparently threw myself at him a few times. Of course, I don't remember a single minute of it.

Sam sits down beside me, across from Dean and lays the newspaper on the table between them.

"Found something, maybe"

"What is it?" I ask, grabbing the paper. "Man falls on power saw? How is that our thing?"

"Well, it's not the only thing I found. Four other deaths in the area. People falling off of ladders and drowning in their Jacuzzis all over the neighborhood. This Morning Hill gated community."

"Ok, where?" Dean asks, watching for our order.

"Cicero, Indiana." I tell him and see his eyes cut toward me, then the paper and then back to scanning the crowd. What is up with that? What's wrong with Cicero, Indiana?

We finish our breakfast and head back to the motel. Once inside, Sam sits down at his laptop and begins investigating the case and Dean sits on the end of the bed we had shared last night. I go to the bathroom and after washing my hands, I hear the guys talking.

"I don't think we should go to Indiana," Dean says.

"Why?" Sam asks, puzzled.

Dean's voice lowers so I put my ear to the door to hear.

"Remember that road trip I took, uh... gosh, about eight years ago now? You were in Orlando with Dad wrapping up that banshee thing. "

"Yeah. Yeah, the five states, five-day –"

"Yeah. Well, kind of. Although I spent most of my time in Lisa Braeden's loft."

"Who is Lisa Braeden?"

"She was a yoga teacher. It was the bendiest weekend of my life," Dean says, a dreamy lilt in his voice.

"And?" Sam asks, still puzzled.

"And," Dean pauses, nodding his head toward the bathroom. "I just don't want to run into her and make Nic uncomfortable. I just, I care about her, ya know. Lisa was, well, she was tenacious. She wanted me all to herself. We never left her loft the whole time."

I open the door and walk into the room pretending not to have heard a word. I sit on the end of the bed Sam had slept in and grabbed my duffel, feigning naivete. I was pissed. Dean was trying to protect me from being hurt by an old hookup that apparently had been possessive and greedy but there was a possible case needing investigated.

"So, Indiana, huh?"

Dean and Sam both look me. I see fear and sadness in green eyes and pity and warmth in hazel ones. Continuing with my act of innocence, I begin packing my things into my bag.

"Uh, yea. Listen, Nic," Dean says, standing up and walking to me. "Can we talk?"

"Sure. What about?" I refuse to look him in the eye , just keep stuffing my bag. I know if I look at him I will break and tell him I know all about Lisa and that he is willing to ignore a case just to protect me. It kind of pissed me off that he would manipulate our pledge to fight what we let escape when Hell's Gate was opened just to preserve the memory of "the best weekend of his life".

"Thing is…..look, I've been in Cicero before," Dean tells me.cautiously. "'Bout eight, nine years ago."

I look up at him and meet his eyes. "Yea, had the best weekend of your life there, right? I heard you. I heard all about Gumby girl. Listen, I'm going to work the case. I don't care about your past conquests and hookups ok?" I go back to packing for a moment, but my anger at him thinking I need protecting has my eyes snapping back to his. "I'm a big girl Dean. I can handle it if we meet up with her." As long as she didn't try to get with him again, I think to myself. Otherwise I'd be furious!

The boys quickly pack up their things and meet me at the back of the Impala. I'm still miffed about Dean's overwhelming urge to keep me from meeting someone from his past. Did he actually think she would try to make a move on him? Would he reciprocate? Is that what he is worried about? I let these thoughts plague my brain as I settle into the backseat. I pull my earbuds out of my bag, plug them into my phone and turn on my playlist. I'm just going to enjoy the ride and not worry about meeting some chick named Lisa.

We pull into the Cicero Pines Motel and Sam gets out, going to procure us a room for a few days. Long enough for us to work this case and move on. I catch Dean's green eyes staring at me through the rearview mirror. The look of worry and concern obvious. I hate seeing him troubled so I pull my earbuds out and smile at him. "Dean, I'm fine. I'm sorry about earlier. But seriously, I know you have a past. I know there have been other women. I'm not naive or stupid."

"Nic, I just don't want to see you get hurt. I know you know there have been others but Lisa, well she's a bit of a wildcard. I was practically a slave for her that weekend. But always rewarded my good behavior with mind-blowing…." Dean stops himself, realizing just who he was talking to. "Sorry." He looks away sheepishly.

I shake my head at his bashfulness. Sam gets back to the car and we unload and head into the room.

"I'm hungry," I tell them after a couple of hours of reading and inspecting what information we have on the case in the area.

"Me too," Sam agrees, shutting his laptop and standing up. Dean is laid out on the bed behind us with his eyes closed, not much investigating going on from his end. He sits up and slips his boots on, tying them while Sam and I wait on him.

"Let's go then."

Walking through the diner we find a booth toward the back of the room. The waitress immediately comes over, hands up three menus and tells us she'll be back in a bit. I peruse the menu and order a cheeseburger platter with a strawberry milkshake when the waitress returns. Sam orders a cobb salad with water. The waitress winks at Sam and I see his cheeks turn pink. Seeing Sam embarrassed by female attention warms my heart. I love Sam. He is my big little brother. And I knew the story of how he get out of the life for a while and went off to Stanford until Dean came waltzing back into his life when John went missing. I heard of how he lost his girlfriend Jess so tragically. I sympathized with him over the loss of his love and just wanted him to be happy again.

Dean orders the same thing I did, going for a coffee instead and the waitress takes the menus and walks away, a little extra sway in her hips. I smile knowing that was for Sam's benefit as I see him notice it also. I grin knowingly at him but he just shakes his head, lowering his chin to his chest.

When we leave the diner, Dean suggests we go by the hardware store since we were running low on rock salt, lighter fluid and paint. Walking through the door, I notice a dark-headed woman

Standing near the front of the store, happily chatting to one of the employees as he is filling balloons with helium and handing them to her. Most of the balloons are plain everyday multi-colored ones but one has 'Happy Birthday' written on it. She must be having a party I think as I follow the boys through the aisles.

"Dean?" I hear a female voice call out and I look up to see the woman from the front of the store, looking toward us. She now has about 20 balloons floating above her.

Dean turns and looks and then glances at me. "Lisa?"

"Yea," Lisa says, happily and then something in her changes. Her face holds a look of surprise at first but suddenly turns to trepidation, and slight fear. Her eyes begin darting around, not looking at any of us and then she quickly says, "Well, it was nice seeing ya." She goes to leave but Dean speaks up. "What's with all the balloons?"

"Oh!" she says, looking up at the floating orbs. "I'm having a party."

"A party?" Dean says, joyfully. "Well, Sam here loves parties. Oh, that's right. This is my brother Sam," Dean says motioning to his brother introducing him to his ex. "And this is...my friend Nic, Nicole." Dean nods his head toward me and Lisa cuts her eyes at me. I give her a little smile , trying to be as mannerly as I can although I'm fuming inside. A friend? A friend?!

My inner monologue blocks out the rest of their conversation. 'He sees me as just a friend, a hunting buddy. Nothing more than just a way to let off steam.' I shake my head slightly as I hear Dean say, "Yea 5:00."

"What's at 5:00?" I ask as I watch Lisa walk away, glancing back at us over her shoulder.

"Party at Lisa's," Sam says, rolling his eyes. "She just happens to live in the same gated community that all the unexplained deaths have taken place. Dean thinks we might be able to get in and do some recon, find out what the hell is going on."

I look at Dean and he raises his eyebrows, smirking.

INSERT DEAN SMIRKING HERE.

I just roll my eyes and head off down the aisle to pick up the supplies we were here for. When we get back to the hotel, Dean keeps talking about how this party is perfect for us, that we can get in there and do some inside investigating to see what we are up against. I pay no attention to his blabbing as I go through my duffel to find something appropriate for a lawn party, as I was very cheerfully told that it was called. I could care less what this stupid fucking party was referred to. I just wanted to get in, get information and get the hell out of there. I didn't need to see Dean hit on all the women who I'm sure would be at Lisa, the yoga teacher's "lawn party"

At quarter to 5 the three of you loaded up and headed to the address Lisa had given Dean. I was surprised when we pulled into the driveway of modestly sized house in the suburban development. Teaching yoga has its benefits I thought as I appreciated the wide shiplap-panelled home. The front patio was supported by stacked stone pillars and the door was a good quality thick stained mahogany.

Dean rang the doorbell and I could hear voices coming through. The door opened and there stood Lisa. She smiled tentatively at us and stepped back to allow us entrance.

"So, uh, who's the party for?" Sam asks.

"Ben. My son. " Say what now?

"Oh. You have a..." Dean asks, shocked.

"Yep. " Lisa answers, nodding for us to follow her to the back patio. We step out into the backyard and kids are running wildly.

She gestures across the yard to a young boy wearing a black jacket and jeans. He is opening presents.

"That's him."

All three of us look to see a young kid opening a gift to reveal a CD.

"Yes! AC/DC rules!" Ben yells, excitedly holding up his fingers in a bull horn manner.

"How old…" Dean asks, uneasy.

"Eight," Lisa answers. I internally groan. This is Dean's son, I just know it. Dean had a wild weekend with this woman 8 to 9 years ago and now I am looking at his son. No wonder she acted so aloof in the hardware store earlier. She knew she had given birth to his kid and he was about to find out her big, dark secret.

"Excuse me," Lisa says, turning back into the house. I watch her approach a woman and small girl who had just arrived, present in hand.

"Well, let's party," Dean says trying to sound upbeat but I can tell he has put 2 and 2 together and realizes we just crashed his unknown son's birthday party.I follow him and Sam over to the food table where there is a large race car themed cake sitting in the middle. As Sam and Dean are filling their plates I overhear two of the women who are sitting behind us start talking.

"Did you hear Lisa call him 'Dean'?" the first woman says.

"Yeah. Why?" the second woman asks, confused.

"You don't know about Dean? The Dean. Best-night-of-my-life Dean?"

"No! Tell me." Yes, please enlighten us with the tale of Lisa and Dean. I am just dying to hear about the man that I am in love with and the woman who kept his child hidden from him.

"Oh, my god, so, they had this crazy, semi-illegal – "

She cuts off as she sees me staring at them, obviously listening to their gossip.

They eyeball me until I follow the boys off.We find Ben near a bouncy house, eating a piece of cake and watching the other children jump.

"What's up?" Ben asks, looking up at Dean then over to me and Sam.

"What's up with you?" Dean asks. I can tell he is weirded out by how much this boy reminds him of himself. If it wasn't so damn infuriating it would be hilarious.

A woman and her little girl walk by, and in unison, Dean checks out the mom as Ben checks out the girl. Then they each take a bite of cake. I roll my eyes at Dean's blatant lack of self control around a pretty woman. Seems his son has the same affliction.

"So, it's your birthday," Sam says, standing there awkwardly.

"Guilty."

"It's a cool party," I speak up. It's not Ben's fault his mom is a major bitch and never contacted Dean and told him he had a son.

"t's so freakin' sweet. And this moon bounce – it's epic." Yea, Ben is Dean made over.

"Yeah. It's pretty awesome," Dean agrees.

"You know who else thinks they're awesome? Chicks. It's like hot-chick city out there." Ben says then smacks Dean on the chest.

We watch as Ben sets his cake down and follows a girl into the moon bounce. "Look out ladies, here comes trouble!"

Dean watches him, rolls his eyes up as he does some mental arithmetic, then darts inside the house to find Lisa. I'm sure he is about to lay into her about keeping Ben from him, his father. I can't help but giggle when Dean almost knocks a trash can over in his haste.

Sam and I continue to watch the kids and Ben bounce and jump around inside the giant blow up castle.

"So, looks like you have a nephew," I say as nonchalantly as I can.

"Seems that way, huh?" Sam answers, looking at the boy who reminds him of his brother from younger years.

:So, some of the children that were invited--," Dean says as we are headed back to the motel later in the evening. The party had been eye-opening for all of us.I found out that Dean had been the talk of the town after his weekend holed up with Lisa all those years ago; Sam had found out that he had a nephew and Dean had found out that the Winchester bloodline was one person greater. He had a son. " --half of the kids invited didn't make it because each one of them has had a recent death in the family. And not like grandparents or anything, but their own parents. Freak accidents, each of them." Dean had yet to mention what he discussed with Lisa but there had been definite tension between the two after their conversation inside the house.

"That's weird," Sam admits and I nod my head in agreement.

"Yeah, something's up. Something these nice, big gates can't protect them from."

The next morning Sam and I are playing our parts as insurance agents and going to each home that had had a death, investigating the "bizarre and unusual deaths" in the area. At each one, near the scene of the "crime" we find a a dark red substance and in each instance the child of the family just stands nearby, eerily staring at us.

At the home of the Dickinson's, Mrs. Dickinson leads us around back of the house and points to a ladder leaning against it.

"This is, um, where he fell, " she motions toward the ladder.

"I see. Now, how exactly did he – "

"He was just inside changing a light bulb. Must have lost his balance. "

"Were you here when this happened? " I asked as I look up at the top of the ladder. The daughter is standing there in the second floor window, staring at us.

"No. I was out. Uh, the only one here was our daughter, Dakota."

I wave at Dakota but she only glares back, unmoving. I tear my eyes away from her and notice, once again, the dark red substance is staining the window sill and a railing.

"Okay," he pauses and looks to me. "Well, uh, I think that's all I need." I nod and we turn to follow her out of the yard.

As we are following her, her ponytail sways and I notice a strange injury on the back of her neck. It's in an oval shape, with multiple dots around it, like the mark from a sucker or teeth. I elbow Sam and vaguely point it out to him. He tries to study it as close as he can without going noticed.

Mrs. Dickinson stops at the gate and smiles. "Thank you."

We grin at her and walk out of the yard. We discuss the wound on her neck as we go to meet Dean in town. We get to the Impala but Dean is nowhere near it. I look around and see him across the street, sitting on a park bench. Ben runs up to him and gives him a high five

I smile at the camaraderie between them. I stand and watch them talk amongst themselves before Lisa barges over, looking pissed and begins yelling at both of them. She grabs Ben by the wrist and jerks him away and goes to walk off, dragging a hesitant Ben. Ben pulls away from his mother, running back and hugging Dean. Dean's whole face lights up until he looks over at Lisa and his whole demeanor changes. Dean looks around and sees three boys staring at him intently. He shakes it off and walks across the street toward me and Sam.

"Something's wrong with the kids in this town."

Back at the motel, the three of us use whatever avenue of research we can get our hands on to figure out what is going on in Morning Hills. Sam is on his laptop, I'm reading a tomb from Bobby's library while Dean is flipping through the pages of John's journal.

"So, what do we know about changelings?" Sam asks.

"Evil monster babies?" I ask scrunching up my nose.

"No, not necessarily babies."

Dean sits up on the bed, "They're kids. Creepy, 'stare at you like you're lunch' kids?"

"Changelings can perfectly mimic children.," Sam says as he continues reading the screen. "According to lore, they climb in the window, snatch the kid. Y'know, there were marks on the windowsill at one of the kid's houses. Looked to me like blood."

"And there's one at every victim's house," I say, realizing that we have found our monster. "Any idea on how to waste them?"

"Fire. We have to torch them."

"The changeling grabs a kid, assumes its form, joins the happy fam just for kicks? " Dean asks, sitting up on the bed.

"Not quite. Changelings feed on the mom: synovial fluid. The moms have these odd bruises on the back of their necks," sam explains. "Changelings can drain them for a few weeks before mom finally croaks."

"And then there's dad and the babysitter..." I add.

"Yeah. Seems like anyone who gets between the changeling and its food source ends up dead," Sam confirms.

"And fire's the only way to dispose of them?"

Sam nods. "Yup."

"Great. We'll just bust in, drag the kids out, torch them on the front lawn. That'll play great with the neighbors. What about the real ones? What happens to them? "

"According to lore, they stash them underground somewhere. I don't know why, but if it's true, the real kids might be out there. "

"We better start looking," I say, getting up to put my shoes on.

"So, uh, any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable?" Dean asks, an unrecognizable lilt in his voice.

"Yep."

"We gotta make a stop. I want to check on someone.

"Dean, if the real kids are still alive, we don't have time. We—" I start. I don't really want to hear that he wants to stop by her house.

"We have to," he pleads with us. I look to see fear and anxiety in his eyes and realize he is talking about Ben. I nod in understanding and we head out

We pull up outside Lisa's and Dean goes to get out. "I've got to check on him."

Sam and I smile at him and watch him walk up to the front door and ring the bell. Lisa answers and I can tell she is surprised to see him. They talk for a few minutes until Lisa slams the door in his face. The bitch! He was just checking on his child, you know, the one you kept from him! Dean walks back down the steps and turns to see Lisa in the front room, reading a book. Ben is sitting next to her, book in his hand but staring at his mother. Suddenly Dean turns and runs back to the Impala.

"They took Ben. He's changed," he announces, worried.

"What?! Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I checked his windowsill."

"Blood?" I ask anxiously. This is Ben, Dean's son we are talking about. If a monster has took him, I knew Dean would fight tooth and nail to get him back, even though he just met the kid.

"I don't think it is blood, and I think I know where the kids are." He starts the Impala and speeds off toward the other end of the neighborhood.

Most of the houses here are in different stages of construction. Dean parks in front of a semi-finished home, with a "Cicero Realty For Sale" sign. Sam picks some up and inspects it on his fingers.

"Red dirt," Sam verifies. "That's what was on the window."

"Ah, you take the front. We'll go around."

I follow Dean around the back of the house and we make our way in through a doorway that only has a sheet of plastic covering it. We enter to a hull of a kitchen, island in the middle of the room and a sink to the opposite side. To the right is an open door. I go to inspect it and see stairs leading down. I clear my throat to get Dean's attention and nod toward them. We slowly descend and come to a great room, like a den.

We find a series of cages, each containing abducted kids. The real Ben is in one.

Dean runs over to the cage holding his son and tells him, "Ben... Ben... it's okay. I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?" Ben nods.

I walk along the cages, checking each child to make sure they are still alive. I come across one that is holding an adult. I recognize her as the realtor from the billboard at the entrance to the community.

Dean opens Ben's cage pulling him out and hugging him.

"Come on. Let's go," Dean says as we hear a commotion upstairs. He sets Ben down and ruffles his hair. "All right, come on."

Dean and I begin breaking open the cages and I notice Ben helping the children out.

"It's okay. You're gonna get out of here, all right? Hurry!" I hear him say.

"Come on, girls! Come on! Keep moving, keep moving." He looks up and see the basement window. "Okay, everybody back! Everybody back!"

He clears off a windowsill and prepares to smash the glass. Ben and I help usher the other kids away.

"Cover your eyes!" Dean yells. He breaks the window with a plank of wood, and begins to brush the glass off.

Ben takes off his jacket and hands it to Dean. "Here. Use this."

Dean looks at his son proudly, then takes the jacket and lays it over the broken window. "All right. All right, Ben. Come on. Come on."

Ben, indicating another kid, tells Dean, "Him first."

Dean picks up the sickly boy and pushes him through the pane. I begin ushering kids toward Dean so he can pick them up and get them out.

Sam runs in. "Hey! There's a mother!"

"A mother changeling?" I ask and the realize why the realtor was caged. The changeling had taken over her likeness.

"Yeah. We gotta get these kids out quick."

"Right there, right there. There's one more," I tell him, pointing to the cage with the woman in it. "You got to break the lock!"

"I guess that's why the changelings are keeping the kids alive – so the mom can snack on them." Sam says as he frees the woman. "There. Come on, I gotcha."

One of the last kids to escape turns and starts screaming. We all look behind us to see the changeling who has been pretending to be the realtor.Dean goes flying and lands on his back, groaning in pain. The Changeling Mom turns around. Sam points a homemade torch at her, lighter ready to fire it up. She kicks the lighter out of his hand, then roundhouse kicks him again, throwing a few punches before throwing him across the room. Dean gets to his feet, and lunges after her with a 2x4. She punches and knocks him down again.

"Ben, get them out of here!" I yell as I lunge toward the flamethrower. I turn to see Dean, on his knees, grab a brick and surge to his feet again to clock the Changeling Mom. Before he can get to her, I ignite the blowgun and burn her to a crisp. We turn to see Ben and all the other kids, looking at us through the broken window.

We get all the kids, except Ben back to their rightful homes. We tell the parents that all the kids had gotten together to play a trick on everyone and we stopped it. Each of the family thanked us and we went on our way.

Ben sits beside me in the backseat of Baby. I catch Dean leering at us through the rearview mirror and I smile at him. We arrive at Lisa's to find her standing on the front steps. She sees Ben get out of the car and runs toward him.

"Ben?! Ben! Baby, are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Mom," Ben tells her from inside the bear hug she placed him in.

"Oh, my god," she sobs. "What the hell just happened? "

Dean looks to the ground before speaking. "I'll explain everything if you want me to, but, trust me, you probably don't. The important thing is, is that Ben's safe."

"Thank you." She hugs Dean. "Thank you!"

Sam and I stand next to Baby and watch the happy reunion. "Uh, we'll give you guys some time."

Lisa smiles down at her son. "Come on."

She leads the way back into the house and Dean looks back at us before he follows.

Sam and I walk back to the hotel and to my surprise, there is a blonde-headed woman sitting on the foot of Sam's bed. I automatically grab for my gun before Sam stops me. I look up at him to see him staring at her pensively.

"Sam, do you know who she is?" I ask him.

"Yea, Ruby."

"Sam," she addresses him. "I'm here to help."

Sam walks into the room and sits at the table. He picks up a notepad and his phone and begins dialing numbers. I watch in amazement as he calls several numbers, asking about the people listed on the paper and cross each one of them off. As he marks through the last name he puts his head in his hand and mutters, "Oh, my god!"

I walk over and put my hand on Sam's shoulder in comfort. He looks up at me and then over to Ruby, who he had awkwardly explained to me was a demon hunter. As in she was a demon but she hunted demons. She had been the one to actually take out the three demons back in Nebraska. Her and her demon-killing knife. After the shock of knowing Sam had been in contact with a known demon and then realizing she had saved his life, I accepted her. Not fully, but I recognized that if it hadn't been for her, Sam would most likely be dead so for that I approved her presence for now. I would be keeping my eye on her though.

"They're dead. All of them. All of my mom's friends. Her doctor, her uncle – everyone who ever knew her, systematically wiped off the map one at a time," He huffs out a laugh. "Someone went through a hell of a lot of trouble trying to cover their tracks."

"Yep. The Yellow-Eyed Demon," Ruby nods.

"So, start talking," Sam says, standing up, towering over her. "All those murders... what was the demon trying to cover up?"

"I don't know."

"What happened to my mother?"

"I honestly don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out. All I know is that it's about you. "

"What do you mean?" I ask, curious.

Ruby laughs. "Don't you get it, Sam?It's all about you. What happened to your mom, what happened to her friends. They're trying to cover up what he did to you. And I want to help you figure it out."

"Why would you want to help me? "

Ruby shrugs. "I have my reasons. Not all demons are the same, Sam. Not all of us want the same thing. Me? I want to help you from time to time. That's all."

We hear the purr of Baby's engine pull up outside and Ruby looks toward the window. "Gotta go." And with that she blinks out.

Dean walks through the motel and sees Sam and I standing there. He looks to his brother and then to me and I can tell he has bad news.

"What is it Dean?" I ask.

He bows his head and walks out the door. I follow him and watch him walk to the driver door of the Impala and lean back against it.

"She doesn't know."

"Who doesn't know what?"

"Lisa. She's not sure if Ben is mine or not."

Whoa! I knew she was a bimbo but to not know who the father of your child is, just wow!

"So, what are you going to do?" I ask gently. I'm afraid of the answer.

"I gotta know Nic. If he's mine, I need to set up some protection for him," he tells me. "Monsters find out I have a son, they'll come for him."

"Okay," I concede.

"I think I should stay here and find out," he says and I can feel my heart jump right out of my chest.

"What? For how long?"

"However long it takes!"

"So you're just going to leave Sam and me to go play happy house husband with some chick you spent a weekend with a million years ago?" I'm pissed now. "What if he ain't even yours? Who knows how many Tom, Dick and Harry's could be that boy's father?"

Dean stands up and heads toward the motel room. "This is just how it's got to be!" He picks up his bag and stalks past me, gets in the car and leaves, squealing the wheels out of the parking lot.

I watch until I can't see his brake lights anymore. Sam steps up beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. "I'm sorry Nic."

I let the tears flow then. Dean Winchester, the man I was in love with, just left me in the parking lot of a motel in Indiana to go play father to a kid who might not even be his!


	38. Werewolf Den

Sam finally coaxes me back into the motel room. I had stood there, with Sam's arm around me, watching long after the Impala's tail lights were no longer visible. My head hurt from how hard I have been crying and my body was becoming weak.

As soon as Sam placed me on the bed, I curled up with the pillow Dean had slept on. His cologne and just the Dean smell permeated through the cushion, causing the tears to fall more. How am I supposed to go on without him. Dean Winchester had unknowingly crept into my very soul. I was so in love with him. And now he was gone. If it turned out Ben was his son, I knew he would willingly stay in north central Indiana to keep his offspring safe. If the demons and monsters were privy to another in the Winchester bloodline, that would definitely put Ben on the target. I couldn't really fault Dean for that, but to just leave me, not to mention his brother, like this? Yea I took issue with that.

Sam ordered food and when it was delivered I forced myself to join him at the cheap table provided. I pushed my food around in the styrofoam container, my appetite non-existent. "Nic, you gotta eat," Sam advises. "I know you're hurting but you have to keep your strength up."

"I know Sam," I say quietly as I stab my fork into the pasta and twirl.

After dinner, I go to take a shower and when I get out I hear Sam talking. I hope he is talking to Dean, asking him to come back but as soon as I open the door, I can tell it wasn't Dean. Sam has his bag on the bed, his clothes stuffed inside, his gun on top.

"Bobby called," Sam informs me. "He caught a case and needs some help. We leave first thing in the morning."

"H-how?" I ask curious to how we are supposed to leave when the only vehicle we had was probably parked in the driveway of 1422 Morning Hill.

"Bus. I checked. There is a bus terminal about a mile up the road and the first one heading the way we need to go leaves at 10 am."

Well then, I think to myself. Guess we are leaving Dean behind to play house with Lisa and Ben. I crawl into the bed I had shared with Dean while on this case. It feels too big and too empty and not warm enough. Dean always threw off heat, making it about 15 degrees warmer. Now it's just cold and lonely. I toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable spot but I had become use to a heavy arm over my waist and his breath fanning across my shoulders.

Sam pays cash for our bus tickets and as we sit waiting for the call to board, goes over what information he has about Bobby's case. "Cooperstown, North Dakota. Five people have been murdered. No visible marks, other than a gaping hole in their chests."

"Let me guess, the heart is missing in each one?" I ask lowly, making sure no one could hear our conversation.

"Right. And with the cycle it lines right up with werewolf."

"So what's Bobby need our help for? Why doesn't he just shoot it with a silver bullet?"

"He seems to think there is more than one. Two of the murder happened almost simultaneously at opposite ends of the town."

"Oh. Well, let's get on the road and gank the hairy bastards!" At that the intercom buzzed and our mode of transportation was ready to be loaded. Thank goodness for less than stellar security checks with this busline seeing as Sam and I were both packing at least two weapons apiece and enough ammo to scare most civilians.

The trip from Cicero to Cooperstown takes almost 14 hours. 14 hours to sit and try to keep my mind off the fact that we left Dean without a word. No goodbye, no see ya later, nothing. Did he even care? Would he notice? Or would he be so wrapped up in being Daddy that he would forget about me? That thought was the hardest to bear. Did he not know how I felt? Did he not realize that everytime we were together, to me it wasn't just fucking, it wasn't just a stress relief. To me, we had made love. Was I just someone he was passing the time with, messing around until something, someone better came along?

We pulled up to the bus station in Cooperstown and waited our turn to disembark. Walking through the station to get to the front, I tried to keep my mind on the case ahead of us and not on what we had ultimately left behind. Bobby met us in the parking lot, a battered Ford Maverick. I climbed in the back seat, shucking my bag in the floor at my feet. Sam and Bobby clabbered in the front seats and after sputtering a couple of times, the engine caught and we took off.

"So Dean has a kid? Hmm, figures." Bobby breaks the silence in the car.

"Possible kid," Sam reiterates. "He's not sure. Hell, even the mom isn't sure it's his."

I huff out a laugh from the backseat, causing Bobby to look at me through the rearview. He knows how I feel about Dean and I can see the concern and pity in his eyes. "How you doing kid?"

"I'm okay, old man," I say with a small smile. Bobby is like a uncle to me. He took me in after my dad was killed by monsters and helped me learn the ropes to hunting. If it hadn't been for Bobby, I'd probably been demon fodder a long time ago. I looked up to Bobby and knew he was looking out for me so I felt comfortable enough telling him what I couldn't bring myself to admit to Sam last night. "It just hurt. I mean, I get where he's coming from. If the kid is his, precautions needs to be taken. But did he have to go live with them until he found out? Just leave me, leave Sam? I would be backed him up but he never give me a chance."

"Boy's a fuckin' idjit!" Bobby exclaimed. "Sorry Sam, but your brother needs his head checked."

"I agree with you Bobby," Sam admitted. "He coulda handled it a lot better."

Bobby drives to the edge of town, turning onto a gravel road. After about 10 minutes we pull in front of a lot cabin with a huge front porch, complete with fancy lawn furniture.

"Bobby, what is this place?" Sam asks, staring out the windshield.

"Hunters hideaway," Bobby explains. "When hunters are injured and need recuperating, they usually come here. Mark and Rissa are retired hunters. They take 'em in, treat them and when the injuries are healed, send them on their way."

I follow Bobby and Sam up the steps and the door opens. A petite woman opens the door with a smile. "Bobby Singer," she says with a smile. "Good to see you again." She waves us in and the three of us enter. The front room of the cabin is huge, with a wall of stone separating it and the kitchen. The back wall was made up of floor to ceiling windows. Windows that allowed the sunlight in, bypassing the need for artificial light. Through the windows the view was serene, trees and foliage as far as the eyes could see. But your thoughts went directly to safety. How was this cabin with the huge windows leading to the outside world safe? Couldn't the glass just be broken and the monsters invade the sanctity of the cabin?

I glanced up at Sam and saw that he was having the same thoughts. As if she could read our minds Rissa spoke up, explaining. "Bullet proof glass, 5 inches thick, resists impacts of physical assault from blunt and sharp objects. The glass is constructed with 5 layers. Each pane of glass is separated with a thick plastic sheeting. The glass, which is much harder than the plastic, flattens the bullet and the plastic deforms it, with the aim of absorbing the rest of the energy and preventing penetration. The outside layer is aluminum oxynitride , which guards against most modern day ammunition."

Sam nodded ad if he understood the words she had just spewed. But to me, she might as well have been speaking a foreign language for as much as I understood. I just smile in agreement at her as the door behind us opened. We all turned to see a man with long, shaggy blonde hair walk in. He was studying something in his hand as he entered and as he looked up to see he was no longer alone. His blue eyes, although partly hidden by his hair falling into his face, was mesmerizing. They were the color of the ocean in the tropics I'd only seen in magazines and on postcards. "Singer!" he screeched, approaching us holding out his right hand. Bobby firmly shook his outstretched hand, laughing. "Mark, good to see you."

"You here about those attacks?"

"Yea, caught wind of them and thought I'd come check it out."

Mark's eyes cut toward Sam and I, who were awkwardly standing off the the side watching the interaction.

"Mark, this is Sam and Nicole," Bobby spoke. "They're hunters too." At that, I saw then tension leave Mark's shoulders and he smiled.

"The more the merrier!"

Mark and Rissa walked us through what they had gathered up on the victims and each assault; from the coroner's reports to the numerous newspaper clippings describing in minimal detail of the attacks. Some were mostly speculation, saying a rabid dog had preyed upon and clawed its way through the the chest and yanked the heart right out of the cavity. Both Sam and I smiled at one another at that one. Rabid dog was close but not cigar for that journalist.

We decided to get a good night's sleep before Sam and Bobby traipsed into towns in as Feds to see if they could narrow down what exactly had happened.. I would stay back with Rissa and research, doing my part to help find the location of the werewolf den. Rissa showed me to my room, which just happened to be right beside Sam's and I was very thankful for that. Tonight would only be the second night away from Dean and I knew if I needed him, I wouldn't have to go looking far. I placed my bag on the bed and walked into the ensuite bathroom.

The next morning, they guys, all spiffed up, leave after breakfast. I watch as Rissa cleans up the kitchen, putting utensils in their places. I can't help but wonder how she and Mark got out of the life, alive. I put the notebook aside and lean my elbows onto the counter in front of me.

"How? How did you get out of the life?" I genuinely ask. "Most hunters I know die. Bloody."

She turns and smiles at me. "It wasn't easy, let me tell you. But I knew what I wanted. After my husband was killed, I no longer had the desire to save the world from monsters. Henry's death left me drained and empty. I watch as his life slowly left him. I held him as he took his last breath. I knew then that I was done. I was going to find a place and hide away, never to venture out to fight the dangers.

"I wandered about for I don't even know how long. Mark found me. I was weak and dehydrated and living in an old car in the rundown part of the neighborhood. He saved me. He got me food and water and cleaned me up. We talked and realized we were looking for the same thing. Some place to hide," she quits talking, smiling at the memory. "We found this place by accident. We were running from the cops. Breaking into a supermarket to get supplies wasn't the best of plans but we did it. Unfortunately, the market had a silent alarm and alerted the cops."

"Whoa! I thought you and Mark were husband and wife," I tell her, surprised.

"Unofficially, I guess you could say we are. There is no proof, no paper claiming us as husband and wife but we have been together almost 15 years now. He makes me happy and I make him happy."

"Well, that's good."

"Yea, so we took up residence here. Lived here going on 4 years before the life found us, so to speak. A mangled hunter crawled up to our doorstep, barely alive. We took him in, nursed him back to health and with a promise not to tell anyone of our location he left. It was quiet for a while, probably about a year, when he showed up again; this time with company. His partner had been attacked and Lou brought him here in hopes we could patch Brett up like we did him.

"That's when Mark and I decided while we both refused to fight, we could still help by helping injured hunters to heal and get back out there. There's nowhere I'd rather be and nothing I'd rather be doing."

Hearing her talking about the life and being in it but also not was a breath of fresh air. Hunters usually didn't get happy endings, hunters got dead. But listening to Rissa talk about her life helping hunters, her life with Mark made me think of Dean. I had at one time, imagined a life outside of hunting; an apple pie life with Dean but my dream had been shattered when he chose to go off and act the part of dad to a kid who might not even be his.

That was the thing about Dean Winchester, though. He was protective. He protects those he cares about, and if Ben turned out to be his you can bet your ass Dean would go out of his way to protect him. But in doing so, would that mean he would give up hunting? Get my apple pie life dream but with Lisa Braeden instead. The mere thought of that made me sick in the pit of my stomach.

"So, show me what you have on these attacks?" I asked Rissa, taking my mind off Dean and getting down to the business at hand.

By the time Sam and Bobby returned, Rissa and I had narrowed it down to two abandoned farms that the werewolves could be holed up in. I explained our thoughts and ideas to the guys and we sit about getting our weapons prepared to take down the den tonight before anyone else was murdered.

The first farm house is only about a mile out of town and just so happened to be on the same side that most of the attacks had happened. The windows of the first floor of the dilapidated building at the end of the driveway are all busted out and boarded up; the front door barely hanging on by its hinges. But the obvious signs of recent foot traffic through the dirt and dust on the steps and the matted down grass tells us we had found their hideout. We huddle behind the broken down tractor in the field beside the house; Bobby watching through the opening between the engine and the footwell. Movement inside the house causes us to whisper low and plan a quick and efficient course of attack.

Bobby going in the front and taking out as many of the beasts as he could while Sam comes in from the back and does the same. I am to stay here and shoot any that try to escape. We all have several clips loaded with silver bullets and each of us has a blade made of pure silver in case one got too close to us and we have to fight it off.

I watch Bobby head to the front door and Sam stooping low, jogging around the structure. I count to three in my head and listen as the commotion inside the house takes place. I keep an eye on all the exits that a wolf would try to escape and see a small hairy body crawl through one of the windows that the boards had apparently been loosened. I take aim and wait until the small lycanthrope is off the porch and headed toward the tree line opposite my position. I can tell by the way it is limping that it was injured. As soon as it stands up to howl at the brightly lit moon, I take my shot and the beast falls to the ground, limp.

Sam and Bobby join me after making a full sweep through both stories of the farmhouse. Sam's shirt is coated with blood and shredded over his shoulder. Instinctively I begin probing and examining his shoulder for wounds; that much blood he has to have pretty big gashes in his body. "Nic, nic! It's not all mine," Sam calmly tells me. "I'm okay. Just a couple scratches. Probably won't even need stitches."

"Yea, them son of a bitches never knew what hit them," Bobby chuckles. "But one got away out the window in the den. Did you get it?"

I point to the dead, immobile body lying in the dirt near the house. "Of course!"

We help each other up and make our way back to the car. "So, you think that did it?" I ask, climbing into the backseat.

"Yep," Bobby confirms. "Idjit up and spilled it all right before I popped him. New den just trying to make a name for themselves."

We get back to Mark and Rissa's and clean up. Rissa cleans and dresses Sam's wounds and then we are on our way. We head back to Sioux Falls with Bobby until the next case comes in.


	39. Well That Took A Twist

Being back at Bobby's was surreal. Being back at Bobby's without Dean was heartbreaking. Everything in Bobby's house and outside in the junkyard reminded me of what I had lost. The kitchen where I first met the green-eyed man; the living room where I had drummed up the courage to come on to him; the bedroom where we had made love numerous times while trying to keep quiet and not let the occupants in the rest of the house know what we were doing; the garage where I helped Dean reconstruct Baby after the car accident that almost claimed his life and had John giving his soul to save his oldest son; the old junk car where, at the time, I thought we were committing ourselves to one another. Now that was done and over.

Sam can sense my suffering and tries to help me get through each day. Day #1 had mostly been getting rest. Sam and Bobby both try to ease my misery by letting me lounge and bringing me food and drinks or whatever they thought I might need. Day #2 I was over being a lazy bum and went about cleaning and organizing Bobby's kitchen once again. By Day #3 Bobby left on a small salt and burn in the next town over leaving Sam and I to fend for ourselves. We played cards, a couple of board games and watched a movie. I fell asleep on Bobby's couch that night with Sam's arm wrapped around me and my head on his shoulder.

By Day #8 we were both itching to get back into hunting but it had been quiet on that front. No unexplained deaths, no demon omens, nothing. Bobby's phone hasn't rang in so long that we almost forgot what it sounded like. No one was calling for help with research or to ask how to kill anything. I couldn't just sit around and an idea popped in my head so before I talked myself out of it, I went upstairs and grabbed my gun, a Glock 17 and head to the rear of the scrap yard.

Stopping by the storage shed where I knew Bobby kept his targets for practice, I grab a few knowing that I will probably obliterate at least a few. Target practice is the best thing to relieve stress and tension. Well, maybe not the best thing, but I can't do that. And I knew better than to think either of the men I was living with would allow me to take a page out of Dean's book and head out to a bar and find a willing body. So, shooting mannequins and stuffed dummies it was.

The few days that we had planned to stay at Singer Salvage Yard has turned into 2 weeks. 2 weeks since we left Cicero, IN and Dean behind. Sam had heard from Dean about a week ago and told me Dean had bought a DNA test and had, unknowingly to Lisa, took samples from Ben and himself and sent it off to be analyzed. Sam had asked him why he didn't get a blood test done, he laughed telling me Dean had went off on a rant about the costs of said blood tests and had went with the next best thing. The results would be mailed to a post office box he had set up just for it.

Day #15 started just like any other day. I woke up, went downstairs to enjoy a cup of coffee while sitting on Bobby's front porch watching the sun comes up over the myriad of vehicle carcasses that littered the yard. Sam joined me before going on his daily morning runs. As I watched him jog down the drive, I sighed thinking that this might be my life from now on. Living with Sam, the brother of the man I was still madly in love with, at Bobby's.

I was cooking breakfast, bacon and eggs, when Bobby wandered downstairs.

"Morning Nic."

"Morning Bobby. Breakfast is almost ready."

"Thank you sweetheart."

Bobby busied himself getting a cup of joe for himself when one of the phones that lined the wall began ringing. Bobby moved to answer it as I began plating the food for us.

"I'm off to help Hugo with a vamp case, but I can send Sam and Nic."

"Yea, they're here now."

"I'll give them the info and your contact and I'm sure they will be more than willing to help you out Ted."

"I'll have Sam call you."

Bobby hung the phone back on its base and sit at the table.

"Case for us?"

"Sounds like a simple salt and burn. Newlyweds being haunted. Something threw her husband down the staircase, breaking his leg. Ted was headed that way but something came up."

I can feel the anxiousness of finally having something to do and I couldn't wait until Sam got back to tell him about it.

Sam and I had borrowed one of the few cars that Bobby had running, a 1984 Camaro. There was a weird smell that permeated from the back seat but with the windows down, the odor was lessened but still there.

Ted's salt and burn case was located in Littlefield Texas, an almost 15 hour drive from Sioux Falls. As soon as Sam had gotten back from his run and heard there was a case, he had quickly showered, examined the notes that Bobby had concerning the case and contacted Ted to let him know it would be taken care of.

The ride was uneventful and we arrive in Littlefield just before midnight. Sam got us a room at the Crescent Park Motel. We got settled in the room, quickly reviewed the case and crawled into our respective beds. The husband was still in the hospital since he had to have surgery to reset his femur so we knew we couldn't get in to interview him until morning.

Steve and Amy Potterson explained to us what had happened for Steven to land in the hospital; carrying boxes down from the attic and something pushed him from behind.

Steve and Amy had been married for a month when they first noticed anything out of the ordinary. First it was slamming doors at night, then it was moving insignificant items, like their wedding photo which had been placed on the fireplace was found in the garage.

"So, you guys weren't arguing? Maybe he said something out of context to make you angry?" Sam asked. We were dressed as civvies, civilians; advocates for counseling with Couples United. . Neither of us could figure out how the FBI would be interested in a case such as this so we went with the next best thing.

"No! God no. I wasn't even upstairs. I was waiting for him to bring me the box so I could finish decorating the front room.,"Amy answered, looking at her husband. "The box had some of my family's trinkets that I wanted to display."

Sam and I spoke to the couple for a few more minutes, trying to get to the crux of the situation. We knew it had to be a ghost, so her saying the box was full of family heirlooms and whatnot really drove that idea home.

I look at Steve and he is lovingly looking at his wife as she answers our questions. He really truly loved her, it was evident. His eyes sparkled as he gazed upon her. A part of me was jealous of Amy, I wished someone would look at me that way.

As we are walking out of the hospital and to the car, Sam being the gentleman he is, opens the door for me and I slide in. Instead of closing it though, Sam squats down beside me. "Nic, I got a bad feeling about this."

"Why Sam?"

"Well, it could be anyone in that family. If the box was family antiques, no telling who the ghost is. We got to try to narrow it down."

I get an idea in my head and smile at him. "Leave me here, Sam. Let me talk to Amy woman to woman. See if I can get any headway."

"I owe you Nic," Sam smiles before standing to his full height. "Just call when you're done. I'll have food."

"Sounds like a plan."

I walk back into the hospital and find Amy Potterson in the cafeteria, chips and a can of soda on the table in front of her. I grab a quick cup of coffee and approach her.

"Mrs. Potterson?"

"Oh, hi Jenny. I thought you guys left?"

"Yea, well. My colleague's uncle is up on 7th so he wanted to visit. I told him I'd meet him out front in an hour."

I begin asking her more personal questions that we couldn't really ask in the earlier interview; stuff life where she's from, about her parents, siblings, grandparents. Anything really that would help us figure out who the ghost terrorizing her and her husband. Both sets of parents were still alive, even the grandparents were still alive. The only death in either family had been her brother, Jimmy. Jimmy had died after a fight on the streets when he was trying to defend his girlfriend from a few drunk and disorderlies. From what Amy told me it had been violent and bloody and Jimmy's girlfriend had witnessed it all and had been locked in a psychiatric ward since. I knew we had our ghost then. I give Amy my sympathies and bid her a farewell, walking out of the cafeteria and calling Sam.

"The brother died right in front of her," I finish re-telling Amy's story to Sam as we eat the food he had picked up. "The girlfriend went crazy. Had to be locked up in order not to hurt herself."

"Wow!" Sam said, sitting back and wiping his mouth with a napkin. "So, the brother, huh? Wonder why he's going after his sister and new husband though? Not after those who killed him?"

I shrug. I knew it didn't make a lot of sense but it's the only lead we had, it's the only deceased in the whole family, either side.

"Did you see how he was looking at her?" I ask, as I lay on my bed and Sam on his. We're both exhausted from hours of trying to figure out how to get whatever Jimmy's spirit was attached to and torch it. "There was so much love and adoration in his eyes. I don't know why he wouldn't want that for his sister."

"Yea," Sam answers, detached.

I roll to my side and prop my head on my hand. I can tell he is not really here, he's in his own head, reminiscing. "Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, uh nothing," he chuckles but I know there's something.

"Wanna talk about it?" I ask him hesitantly.

"Just thinking about Jess," he tells me and I can hear the regret in his voice. Jessica Moore had been his college sweetheart. They had met on the quad during his freshman year and had dated and fell in love. I had heard him dreaming and moaning her name a few times and had asked Dean who Jess was.

"She was the love of my life. I looked at her the way that husband looked at his wife," Sam confided. "She was my everything. I already had our future planned out. I was going to propose after I graduated Stanford, ya know. Become a big shot lawyer with the beautiful wife."

I smile as he continues talking, remembering life before it all went to hell. "I had an interview that Monday with the dean for law school. I was going to do, Nic. I was going to become a big shot lawyer and save the world the right way, the legal way. Then Dean shows up, telling me Dad was on a hunting trip and was missing and it all went to hell."

"What happened?" I ask, curious. All Dean had told me is who Jess was and that she had been killed but not the how or the why.

"I left with Dean. He swore he'd have my back for my interview. We took care of the 'Woman in White". Woman haunting a highway near Jericho. She'd murdered her kids and then when the guilt hit her, she took her own life off a bridge. Came back and found Jess' body pinned to the ceiling right before it burst into flames."

I feel the tears fall down my face as Sam continues telling me that if it hadn't been for his brother coming in and getting him out of the apartment, he would've died trying to get to her. He told me that that is the same way their mother had died when he was six months old.

"I loved her Nic," Sam says quietly. "Hell, I still do. It's been over two years and I still miss her. I miss her bad."

I jump off my bed and lay beside Sam, putting my arms around him the best I could. "I'm so sorry Sam. I'm sorry you had to go through that!" Sam turned and draped his arm over me, pulling me close. We lay like that for a long time, Sam silently crying over his lost love. At this moment, my anger and agony over Dean melted away. Here I was mourning something insignificant when Sam was grieving his dead girlfriend.

"I'm sorry," Sam apologizes, pulling away from me and sitting up. "I just…"

"Sam, no don't you dare!" I insist. "You have every right to have these feelings. And I'm here for you. You told me I was like a sister to you, right?" I ask and he nods. "Well, you're like my big little brother. I love you and I don't want to see you hurting. If you ever need to talk about Jess, I'll listen. I promise."

"Thanks Nic," he says, turning his head toward me. "That goes both ways, ya know. I'm here for you too. I know what Dean did was shitty but you can talk to me about it."

I smile at him, thankful for his friendship. "Yea, he's an ass but I still love him deeply."

"I know you do and I believe he loves you too."

"Sure has a funny way of showing it," I say, shrugging off the emotions I feel thinking of how if Dean really loved me he would be here now and not off living with some other chick.

"What if it turns out Ben isn't his?" Sam asks. "You know, he'll come back to us. To hunting and to you. Will you forgive him?"

I ponder the thought. If Ben isn't Dean's son then yes he would be rejoining the hunting business. But can I truly forgive him for breaking my heart and doing the right thing, making sure that kid was safe? I know the answer before I even have to think about it. Yes, yes I would forgive him. But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, Dean has an 8 year old son with Lisa Braeden.

"Sam you saw Ben. His mannerisms were Dean made over."

"That doesn't mean anything. You know that," Sam says, trying to persuade me to think positively.

"You're right," I concede. "And believe me, I hope and pray with every fiber in my body that the boy doesn't belong to him. But then I remember the glint of hope in Dean's eyes when he told me that Ben might be his. He was happy, hopeful, eager even. He wants that boy to be his!"

"We never really had a childhood, ya know. Dad raised us pretty much to be warriors. There was no time to play and enjoy being a kid," Sam sadly admits. "We had to know how to fight off anything and everything. So for Dean maybe he sees a way to relive the childhood he didn't get to have through Ben."

"Well as much as I love him and am in love with him, I hope your brother gets what he wishes for then," I say and then add lowly, "even it isn't with me."

Before Sam can acknowledge my statement, there is a knock on the motel room door and he gets up, grabbing his gun from the nightstand and walk to the door. I roll off the opposite side of the bed and go to grab for the duffel I had stuffed under the bed. Sam peeks through the peephole and sighs, clicking the safety back on on his gun. "It's Amy Potterson."

We search through and analyze each family knickknack in the box that Amy had delivered. She had told us after my questions in the cafeteria, she remembered an aunt who believed in the supernatural and that she claimed a spirit who died a violent death or had a vendetta against someone still living could be attached to something they had once owned. Amy didn't know what could be in the box that had belonged to Jimmy and at this point she didn't really care. She told us to get rid of all of it. She no longer wanted old mementos that someone's spirit could easily attach to and spook anyone else. So Sam and I went through the box, just to be sure there weren't papers or any important documents that needed to be kept.

As soon as I pick up and read the name on the dog tags, the lights flicker and the motel room chills.

PFC James M. Wilson. The dog tags belong to her deceased brother, Jimmy. There is a shimmer behind Sam and before I can react Sam's body goes flying across the room, landing on the table. I jump over the bed and squat down next to the duffel I had pulled out earlier. While Jimmy is busy stalking Sam, I grab the salt container, lighter fluid and a lighter and throw the dog tags in the ashtray on the nightstand. I quickly douse the tags in salt and lighter fluid and then flick the lighter. As soon as the fire hits the fluid the tags were burning and I turn to see Jimmy's ghost go up in flames.

The tags are destroyed in the blaze and as soon as they are cool enough to touch, Sam seals them in a envelope and takes them to Jimmy's burial site and bury them at his grave.

The next day, we meet Amy and Steve at their house after he had been discharged.

"So, Jimmy didn't like my new husband?"

"It's the only thing we can tell," I explain. "I just don't understand, if he died such a violent death why would he not go after those who killed him?"

"Do you think that's what he should've done?" Amy asked.

"Well, in all other cases we have dealt with, that's usually how it goes," Sam points out.

Steve speaks up from his chair. "Ames, baby. We need to talk."

Sam and I leave the newlyweds and walk to our car. Another hunt in the books. Another hunt without Dean. We get into the Camaro and head back to the motel., ready to get back to Bobby's

We are packing our bags when there is a knock on the door. I look out the window to see a distressed Amy Potterson outside. I hurry to open the door and usher her in.

"Amy, what's wrong?" I ask.

"Steve. He confessed."

"Confessed to what?" Sam asks, handing her a tissue.

"He was one of the guys. He killed my brother!"


	40. Dean's Back

Sam and I accompanied Amy to the police station to turn her husband in for the brutal murder of her brother. I stayed with her the whole time, from the moment we entered headquarters to the moment she had to painstakingly relay the story of her brother, James "Jimmy" Wilson, in front of his girlfriend and subsequently the girlfriend having to be institutionalized, to having her husband confess to her that he was one of the men who bombarded and attack Jimmy and killed him. Watching the officer write down the details, I held onto Amy's hand giving her comfort and letting know I was there for her.

As we walked out of the station house, Sam pushed himself off the fender of the car and headed our way.

"It's over," Amy said, skeptical. "It's really over. I found Jimmy's killer after all this time." She chuckled a sad laugh. "I just happened to be stupid enough to fall in love and marry the bastard!"

"Amy, it's not your fault," I try to reassure her. "You didn't know Steve was involved in that. He lied to you."

Sam placed his hand on her shoulder. "Do you have any place to stay? Family nearby?"

"Yea, I'm going home," Amy tells us. "Mom and Dad live about 15 minutes away. I'm going to stay with them."

"Good," Sam said, smiling down at her. "You are going to need all the love and support you can get."

We walked her to her car and as she unlocked the door she looked up at us. "All these years, I thought my aunt was a lunatic. Come to find out, she knew what she was talking about."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Yea, looks like."

With that she got in her car, started the engine and took off.

Back at Bobby's, Sam and I got back into our usual routine. I enjoy an early morning cup of coffee while Sam goes on his daily run then inside to cook breakfast for the three of us before it's off the the garage for Bobby and back to searching for cases for Sam and I, still trying to get all the monsters that were released the night Hell's Gate was opened. Life was repetitive. I missed Dean. He always seemed to make boring, monotonous days interesting. I tried not to let my mind wander to him too much. It hurt to think of him living the apple pie life with Lisa; without me.

Friday morning, 28 days after leaving Indiana, started out just like the rest. Except this morning, instead of pouring over news articles and death reports, I find myself out back in the building that I had turned into a makeshift workout room when I first moved into Bobby's. The multi-colored foam mats covering the floor are dusty and the shelves holding my miniscule supply of hand weights grimy. In the corner the punching bag I had suspended from the ceiling hangs at a standstill.

I grab my fingerless sparring gloves from the shelf, clapping them together to dust them off. Getting my hands reacquainted to the mitts I stretch and lengthen my fingers before curling them under and walk to the bag. The first punch causes a cloud of dust to erupt, leading me to a coughing fit. I grab the bottle of water I had brought in with me and drink it down. Getting back in stance, I throw another punch and feel the reverberations up my arm. I relish in the sensations and continue pummeling the sand-filled bag. Alternating between hands, I pound my fists over and over again, remembering to slightly jump from foot to foot to keep my balance.

I don't know how long I assault the sturdy leather but I am enjoying the burn in muscles I hadn't used in a while. My regimen is halted when Sam opens the door and walks in.

"You know, I forget sometimes what a badass you are, Nic," Sam chuckles. "You could probably kick my ass."

"Nah, Sammy, I wouldn't do that to you."

Sam gives me his best bitch face at the nickname. I knew he hated when Dean called him that and I couldn't resist the jab.

"I know, I know," I say, taking one more shot at the bag before turning and giving it a swift kick. The chains holding the bag squeak at the impact. "Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old," I laugh as I reach for my water to finish it off. Sam hands me a towel to dry my sweat covered forehead.

"So what did that bag do to you anyway?"

"Nothing," I say, smiling. "Just figured with it being quiet, I'd get back into keeping in shape. I was a fitness trainer after all, ya know. Can't go getting lax because I'm sitting in the backseat of Baby--" I catch myself and change courses. "Sitting in the seat of a car, running across the country, eating bad diner food."

"You miss him, doncha?"

"He made his bed, now he has to lie in it," I say, shrugging. "And I have to realize it isn't me in that bed."

"He loves you. He'll be back." Sam says, genuinely.

"No, he won't Sam. He'll stay there to protect his son."

"But what if he doesn't. What if that kid isn't his?"

"Sam," I say, not in the mood to play what-ifs. "You saw Ben. He is Dean's. No doubt in my mind."

"Well, all I'm saying is until there is written hard proof, there is always a chance."

"Sam Winchester, the dreamer. Have you always been so romantic?"

"Shut up," Sam says with a small smile and a light blush on his cheeks.

I laugh at him and head to the door, my exercise done for the day. Sam grabs my bicep, stopping me. "He does love you Nic. I see it every time he looks at you."

The first weekend in November was quiet. None of us could find a single omen or death report that verged on the Supernatural side. Sam and I had went to town Saturday evening and caught a movie at the theater. By Sunday afternoon, I was getting angsty. I need to kill something. Anything. I had spent all day Sunday cleaning and re-organizing my home gym so I am looking forward to working out this morning. After my morning cup of joe and breakfast, I head upstairs to change into my sports bra and gym shorts. As I walk into the gym, I tilt my head at the distinct sound of a rumbling engine but I shrug it off as wishful thinking and go about my warm-up.

I'm preparing to work my arm muscles with some bicep curls when the door opens behind me. I expect to see Sam coming to join me like we had talked about but am stunned motionless when Dean walks in.

"Hey," he says sheepishly.

"Hey yourself," I say, grunting as I pull the weight in my hand up and toward me.

"Nic, I'm sorry about what I said," Dean says, quietly. "But I had to know."

"It's okay, Dean. I've come to terms with it. You have a kid with Lisa. And believe me, I get it. You have to protect him."

"You're wrong," Dean says, approaching me. "He's not mine."

"What?" I say, accidentally dropping the weight, barely missing my foot.

"Ben isn't mine. I got the DNA proof and then Lisa confessed. She knew he wasn't mine."

"That bitch!" I am beyond pissed. I could easily walk the 750 miles to Cicero and kick Gumby girl's ass. "She knew all along and she led you to believe he could be yours? Why?!"

"Because I saved Ben. She knows who his father is and he's a real piece of work, I tell you," Dean says. "She wanted someone Ben liked and could look up to and once she seen what I done, fighting evil and saving the world, she thought I'd be the perfect father figure." I'm still seething so he keeps talking. "She didn't expect me to want proof so she was pretty surprised when I got the results and told her to have a nice life."

"So you're back? Back to saving people, hunting things, the family business?"

"Yea," Dean says, smiling. "I mean, if I'm welcome." He pauses and looks at me "Am I welcome, Nic? "

"It's your family, Dean. If Sam needs and wants you then who am I to say no."

"You're my family too, Nic." Dean says, holding his hand out to me.

"Dean, you hurt me," I tell him, looking at his outstretched hand. "You just left. Didn't give me a chance to help. I didn't think you wanted me around."

"And I didn't think you'd want me if I had the baggage of a kid."

"Well you were wrong," I say, finally taking his hand and letting him pull me to himself. "And I'm not saying you're forgiven, Dean Winchester. But, you can work on that." I smile up into his gorgeous green eyes.

"I can do that," Dean says, swiping a strand of hair out of my face. "I'll do whatever I need to do, baby."

We walk hand-in-hand out of the building and back toward Bobby's. "So have you been stuck here this whole time?"

"Nah, took on a couple cases but it has been unnervingly quiet lately."

"The quiet before the storm."

"That's what I'm afraid of!"

Sam and I catch Dean up on what has happened while he was away. Sam begrudgingly tells Dean about Ruby, the demon who had vowed to help him. We are all out in Baby, gone to get food supplies for Bobby's.

"She's a demon!" Dean argues. "I mean the second you find out this Ruby chick is a demon you go for the holy water! You don't chat!" I sit quietly in the back, staying out of the conversation. Although I am agreeing with everything Dean is saying; Ruby is a demon and shouldn't be trusted.

"No one was chatting, Dean."

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?"

"Because - Because she said she might be able to help us out!"

"How?"

Sam pauses, knowing he doesn't have a good answer.

"No really, Sam, how? How could she possibly help?"

But before Sam can come up with an answer a cell phone starts ringing. I look down at mine and the screen is black. No call coming in on my line. "Not mine," I speak up from the back seat.

Sam reaches for his. "It's not mine."

Dean goes for his and I can see over his shoulder the screen is blank, just like mine.

"Check the glove compartment, it's Dad's."

"Dad's?" Sam asks, curious.

"Yea, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call."

Sam opens the glove compartment, finds the ringing phone and answers it. " Hello? Yes... this is Edgar Casey."

"No! No, no, no, don't! Don't call the police, I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I, uh, I don't have my book in front of me." He gestures to me for a pen and I grab one out of my bag, handing it over the seat. "Do you, do you have the address so I can... Sure, OK. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot."

Sam ends the call and looks at his brother. "Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?"

"What?" Dean asks, incredulously.

"Outside of Buffalo?"

"No way," I mumble. It's unbelievable how much John Winchester kept his sons in the dark.

"Yeah. And someone just broke into it," Sam explains.

Dean makes a U-turn in the middle of the road and races back toward Bobby's. "Let's get our stuff and head that way. See what the old bastard had hidden and locked away."


	41. Lucky Rabbit's Foot

We pack up our things at Bobby's, explaining to him about the phone call over the vandalized storage unit and are on the road within an hour, heading to Buffalo.

We get to the facility and find that it is a multi-floored building; John's unit on the third floor.

We pile into the elevator and let the lift slowly climb.

"Man..." Dean says, chuckling to himself.

"What?" Sam asks.

"Just Dad. You know him and his secrets," Dean says, solemnly. "Spend all this time with the guy and it's like we barely even know the man."

"Well, we're all about to learn something." I say as the lift creeks to a stop.

We exit the elevator and find the storage container. Dean uses the lockpick to unlock the padlock and opens the sliding door. We click our flashlights on and begin to file in. There is symbol drawn in red on the dusty floor, along with several bloody footprints. On the dusty floor of the container is a symbol drawn in red, along with several bloody footprints.

"No demons allowed," Sam says, his light landing on the sigil.

Dean squats and examines the floor. "Blood. Check this out." He holds up a tripwire which is attached to a shotgun hidden in a large animal skull.

"Whoever broke in here got tagged," Sam confirms.

"Dear old Dad," Dean chuckles unenthusiastically. "I got two sets of boot treads here, looks like it was a two-man job. And our friend with the buckshot in him looks like he kept walking."

"So what's the deal? Did you Dad would do work here or something?"

"Living the high life, as usual," Dean says as he ventures further inside. Sam and I follow him, aiming our flashlights around, looking. My flashlight lands on a skull and I scream. Dean turns and sees what has frightened me and shakes his head, laughing. I scowl at him.

Sam steps to the side and looks over a desk while Dean picks up a trophy from a shelf, scraping the dust off.

"1995."

"What is it," I ask, trying to peer over Dean's shoulder. He turns and almost clocks me with the trophy.

"Oh sorry," he apologizes. "Sam lookit!"

"No way!" Sam says, walking over and grabbing the memento. "That's my Division Championship soccer trophy. I can't believe he kept this."

"Yeah. It was probably about the closest you ever came to being a boy," Dean says, jokingly. I slap him on the shoulder and wander away to another shelf. I pick up what looks like a homemade shotgun. "Oh, wow! It's my first sawed-off," Dean says, proudly. "I made it myself. Sixth grade."

I laugh at his enthusiasm at the find and he takes it from me, pumping the shotgun.

Sam puts the trophy back on the shelf and moves further into the container, opening a door to a back room. The chain on the door has been cut. Dean and I follow Sam in.

"Holy crap. Look at this, he had land mines, which they didn't take!" Dean says, barely holding in his amazement. "Or the guns. I guess they knew what they were after, huh?"

I spot boxes inscribed with symbols on a far shelf. "Hey, check this out. See these symbols? What are they?"

"That's binding magic," Sam says, examining the shelf of boxes. "These are curse boxes."

"Curse boxes? Th - they're supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right, kinda like the Pandora deal?" I ask, beginning to feel a sense of dread. I think I know where this is going.

"Yeah. Yeah, they're built to contain the power of the cursed object."

"Well Dad's journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, you know?" Dean explains, looking at all the boxes of different sizes and shapes. "Dangerous hexed items, fetishes...He never did say where they ended up."

"Yeah. Well this must be his toxic waste dump," Sam says as I keep wandering down the long line of shelves filled with the curse boxes. I come across a rectangular shape in the dust and run my finger along the dust. 'Great,' I think to myself. "Hey guys! One box is missing."

Sam and Dean hurry to where I'm standing and stare at the empty spot.

"Well maybe they didn't open it," Dean says, looking between me and his brother, hopeful.

We enter the office of the storage facility and ask to see the security tape at the time of the break-in. The middle-aged man allows us to follow him back to the surveillance room, apologizing the whole way. Sam sits in front of the monitor, clicking buttons until the night of the intrusion. We watch as two men exit an older model car and head straight for John's unit. Sam clicks for the camera image from the third floor. The men easily pick the lock and go in; the blast from the shotgun evident by the flash of light on the screen, hitting the shoulder of the first man. His partner hurries in, checks him out and helps him off the ground. They disappear into the locker. Since there are no cameras inside the unit, Sam tabs back to the one outside and tries to triangulate the feed to get a look at the license plate. At the angle of the camera to where the car is parked, all we can make out is the state the license was issued and the last three digits of the plates, 880.

Dean pulls his phone out and opens an app, inputting the information in. We thank the manager and walk out to Baby. Dean phones dings and he pulls it out of his pocket. "Phil Grossman, Connecticut license 7SL 880. We got our thief."

We drive around looking for the vehicle from the footage for about two hours until Sam catches a glimpse of one down a back alley. Dean backs up and pulls down the alley, stopping near the vehicle. He looks out his window. " Connecticut. Last three digits 880.

"Yep that's it," Sam confirms.

I cluck my tongue against the roof of my mouth and chuckle. "Should've blacked out their plates before they parked in front of the security camera," I say, knowing the two men who broke into John's storage unit is about to meet the Winchester fury.

I climb out of the car after the boys and look up at the desolate apartment building. Just the type of digs for two ignorant thieves to hole up in, I think to myself. I follow the guys into the building and start searching the hallways, listening for any type of sounds to alert us to where the burglars are.

The first floor is quiet and quaint, the only sounds coming from an open door. It's a television set playing some cartoon and a kid no older than 2 and still in diapers sitting in front watching. We each look in at the child and I can't help but wonder where the parents are, if they're even home.

On the second floor, we can hear muffled arguing. The voices belonging to two men. We arrive at the door that the voices are coming from, Sam on one side and I'm on the other. Dean is across the hallway directly in front of the door; we all have our weapons out and ready. We listen to the argument inside, making sure these are the guys we are searching for.

"Royal Flush. Grossman, that's the second Royal Flush in eight hands," the first voice says.

"Yeah! This is a lot of fun," the second voice announces.

"I can't lose. I mean really, I - I can't lose!" Grossman, the man who the first voice belongs to says.

We hear movement inside and then Grossman says, "Maybe this thing really works? You know what I'm saying? Wayne, I tell you something there's no way in Hell we are handing it over to that stuck-up bitch now, not after all we've been through. Uh uh. Let's go, huh? Let's get out of here, let's go have some fun."

Dean looks at Sam and nods his head, Sam nods in return. Dean steps up and kicks in the door, walking in quickly with me and Sam right behind him. Sam steps to the right and I step to the left, each of us with our guns drawn.

"Freeze! Nobody move!" Dean yells at the same time Sam shouts, "Don't move!"

"What is this?" says, and I recognize his voice as Grossman.

"STOP!" Sam bellows.

"All right, give us the box," Dean demands. "And please tell me that you didn't-"

"Oh but they did," I say, seeing the opened cursed box on the table in front of me.

"You opened it?!" Dean asks and shoves Grossman against the wall.

"Are you guys cops?" Grossman asks, panting, trying to get his breath.

Dean and I look at one another and then back to the guy pinned against the wall. "Huh?"

"ARE YOU GUYS COPS?!"

"What was in the box?"

The guy glances over at the coffee table where the rabbit's foot sits. Dean and I turn our heads, following his gaze.

"Oh, was that it, huh?" Dean asks, looking at the furry implement lying there. In his curiosity, he loosens his hold on his opposition. "It was wasn't it? What is that thing?"

I see what looks like an animal paw on the end of a chain and it dawns on me, it's a fucking lucky rabbit's foot. And if one of these idiots have touched and I know they have, they're idiots after all, then we are doomed.

Grossman uses Dean's distraction to knock the gun from his hand. the gun falls to the floor, causing it to fire. The bullet ricochets off a radiator and hits Sam's gun, causing him to drop it. I drop to the floor as the bullet continues to fly haphazardly through the air. I don't want to die today and if these guys have cursed luck on their side, well, I'm going to play the role of the frightened female and hide and hopefully survive. The same bullet then ricochets again and breaks a lamp. Sam and Grossman both go for Sam's gun. He pushes Sam into Dean. Dean falls back on the coffee table, launching the rabbit's foot into the air.

Sam looks to his brother and apologizes, "Sorry!"

Grossman throws himself at Sam, sending them both to the floor. He starts punching Sam in the face. In the meantime, Wayne, the second guy, goes for Dean's gun. As he picks it up and aims for Sam, he elbows Dean, who has just gotten up, square under the chin, knocking him down again. Grossman tries to strangle Sam; Sam is desperately trying to reach for the rabbit's foot, which is almost out of reach. He just managing to grab it. He then knocks Grossman's hands away from his throat and kicks him back into a corner and stands up.

"Dean! I got it!" Sam yells, holding up the fuzzy contrivance hanging from a chain.

Wayne moves forward and cocks Dean's gun in Sam's face. "No you don't."

Grossman gets his hands on Sam's gun while Wayne pulls the trigger on Sam. The gun jams. He panics and tries to clear the chamber, while Dean gets up and tries to stop him. This surprises him and he stumbles back, tripping over me and falling back over the couch, knocking himself out. Sam and Dean look at each other, confused. Grossman gets up and tries to point the gun at Sam. I see him and shout to warn the younger Winchester.

"SAM!"

As Grossman moves, the books on the bookshelves behind him suddenly fall off and onto his head, knocking him out cold. Sam's gun flies out of his hand and Sam catches it. Dean and I look at each other and then to Sam, astounded.

"That was a lucky break!" Dean chuckles and then pauses. He looks closer at the gadget in Sam's hand. "Is that a rabbit's foot?!"

Sam holds it up. "I think it is."

"Huh," Dean humphs, confounded.

"Oh no!" I mutter.

The whole way back to Baby, Dean has a smile on his face and Sam just walks like he's in a trance. We get in and Dean pulls out and heads out of the alley.

"I tell you, this day just got better. We knocked out the bad guys and we got back our stolen property.

Hey," he says then pauses. "I just had an idea."

I watch as he maneuvers the Impala through traffic, pulling into a parking lot. Dean jumps out of the car and jogs inside. I sit there with Sam, not knowing what to say.

"Nic, I got a bad feeling about this," Sam speaks up.

"Yeah me too," I agree. "That thing was locked up for a reason."

Sam reaches under his seat and pulls out the leather journal that belonged to John. He starts flipping through through its pages.

I watch as Dean exits the building and heads toward the Impala with a paper bag in his hands. He gets in and rummages through the bag, taking something out.

"I'm not finding anything on it in Dad's journal," Sam says, not paying attention to his brother.

Dean holds up several scratch cards in front of Sam.

"Dean, come on," Sam says, exacerbated.

"What?! Hey, that was my gun he was aiming at your head, and my gun don't jam," Dean says, confidently. "So that was a lucky break. Not to mention them taking themselves out, also a lucky break. Here, scratch one. C'mon Sam, scratch and win!"

Dean hands over a coin and a card. Sam scratches it and hands it back.

"Dean, it's gotta be cursed somehow," Sam says, looking back down at the journal. "Otherwise Dad wouldn't have locked it up."

"$1200... You just won $1200!" Dean laughs and hollers. "I don't know, man, it doesn't seem that cursed to me!"

I lean up and look over the front seat and at the lottery card in Dean's hand, "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope," Dean says, showing me the card and handing his brother another card, expectantly.

"Dean," I say, cautionally. "We should really look into this more carefully before using it for anything, especially for scratch off lottery tickets."

"Baby, come on," Dean whined. "Tell you what, let me have this and I'll take you out on the best date ever." He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled. I just rolled my eyes and sat back. There was no way getting through to him.

"I'm going to call Bobby," Sam says, having scratched off the last card. "See if he knows anything."

Sam steps out of the care as Dean lays out the six scratch cards on the dash of the Impala, calculating the winnings.

Dean laughs lowly. "Oh, man!"

I sit back up, putting my arms on the back of the front seat and look down at Dean's phone where the calculator app is opened and the amount of the winnings visible.

"What the-- really?" I ask and Dean shakes his head. "Halle-fucking-lujah!"

I look out the window to see that Sam is still on the phone to Bobby. I can hear his side of the conversation.

"Now look Bobby, we didn't know."

"Well Dad never told us about this thing. I mean you knew about his storage place at Black Rock?"

Sam listens to Bobby talking and is walking back and forth on the passenger side of the Impala. He bends over and picks something up. He holds it so Dean and I can see it; it's gold watch.

"Awesome!" Dean exclaims.

"It's a hell of a luck charm," Sam says into the phone.

"Well, so I won't lose it, Bobby."

"Well, then, how do we break the curse?"

Sam hangs up the phone and puts the rabbit's foot in his pocket. He gets in the car to see his brother and I both grinning widely. "What?"

"Dude! We're up fifteen grand!" Dean exclaims proudly and I giggle, already going over in my mind what I could get with that much money.

Sam only gives us a half-smile, a worried look on his face.

"Bobby says the rabbit's foot is cursed. It's made to kill people. IF you touch it you own it and sure you get good luck. But," Sam pauses in his explanation. "If you lose it, that good luck turns bad. Bad enough that you're dead within a week."

We all look at each other. "I'm hungry," Dean announces, like Sam didn't just tell us bad news. We get out and head into the restaurant. "Don't worry, Bobby'll find a way to break it.," Dean says trying to appease his younger brother. "Until then I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. You can be Rain Man."

I laugh but the thought of a vacation in Vegas, yeah I could go for that. A little gambling, a lot of drinking, Dean all to myself, making him grovel for my affection. I smile at the ideas that quickly come to my head for Dean's punishment.

"Look, we just lay low until Bobby calls back, OK?" Sam says, stopping just inside the doors.

I walk past the two and up to the host, who just so happens to be the owner. "Hi, uh, table for three please."

"CONGRATULATIONS!" The host/owner announces as an alarm goes off. "You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant family!"

The staff start singing and taking photographs. Balloons and streamers fall from the ceiling. Sam looks embarrassed; Dean looks ecstatic and I roll my eyes. I just want a burger.

After taking our picture with a gigantic cardboard check, made out to the millionth customer for free food for a year, we are seated in a booth; Sam on one side, Dean and I on the opposite. Our waitress comes by and takes our order. She openly flirts with both boys and as she leaves, I see her glance back over at Sam, adding an extra sway in her hips.

She brings back our food and leaves us to eat, after making sure that Sam has everything he needs. The food is phenomenal and gone quickly. Dean orders dessert but I am too full to eat another bite. Sam pulls his laptop out and begins trying to search for anything to do with a cursed rabbit's foot and who the stuck-up bitch Grossman was referring to could be.

Dean's bowl of ice cream is delivered by another waitress and she winks at him. I watch for his reaction and to my surprise, he ignores the blatant flirtation. I internally smile thinking 'at least he's trying.'

"Bobby's right," Sam says, looking at the screen. "This lore goes way back. Pure Hoodoo. You can't just cut one off any rabbit. Has to be in a cemetery, under a full moon, on a Friday the thirteenth."

Dean, ignores his brother, looks at me and says, "I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's." He takes another bite of ice cream and stops, gripping the edge of the table and shuddering. Sam and I can't help but laugh at the eldest Winchester suffering a momentary brain freeze from the ice cream. Our waitress approaches with an carafe of coffee.

"Can I freshen you up?" she ask Sam, nodding to the cup beside him.

"Yeah, yeah sure. Thanks."

The waitress is staring at him, smiling, not paying attention to the coffee until it overflows the cup. "Oh!"

"Oh! Oh I uh-" Sam says, embarrassed for her and goes to grab napkins from the dispenser.

"Let me mop up here," the waitress offers, pulling a rag from her apron.

"No, no don't worry it's okay, It's okay- I got it, uh..."

"It's no trouble really," the waitress tells him.

"OKay," Sam concedes and allows her to clean up the spilled coffee.

"Sorry about that," she apologizes again, looking right into Sam's eyes. Dean and I look at each other, smiling at the obvious attraction.

"It's all right.," Sam says, lowly.

She finishes cleaning up and walks away, looking over her shoulder as she goes and smiles. We all lean toward the table and watch her retreat.

"Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky.." I say as I hit Dean's shoulder with my own, waggling my eyebrows at the younger Winchester.

Sam smirks and says, "Shut up."

He goes to pick up his coffee, knocks the cup over and manages to spill it all over the table and himself, jumping out of his seat.

"Oh! Oh Geez, uh..."

Sam turns around and a waiter with a full tray crashes straight into him, sending things flying and causing a scene. Dean looks at me, shocked.

Sam apologizes the the waiter and turns back to the table.

"How was that good?" Dean asks tentatively.

Sam reaches into his jacket pocket and bring out his hand, empty. The rabbit foot is gone.

"Son of a bitch," Dean exclaims as I look at Sam wistfully. This turn of events is not good, not good at all.

We rush out of the restaurant; Dean in front. "Come on!"

I'm lagging behind because even though I'm tall at 5'7" and I know I can run fast, I still can barely keep up with those long Winchester legs.

Sam falls flat on his face in front of me and Dean slows down and turns around.

"Wow! You suck!" Dean says as he looks at his brother face first on the ground.

I reach down and help Sam up. He rubs his knee. "Ow." Sam's jeans are torn at both knees, which are bloody and raw.

"So what, now your luck turns bad?" Dean asks as we look over his brother, checking for any other wounds.

"I guess," Sam answers, wiping the palms of his hands on his shirt.

"I wonder how bad?" I ask, looking between the two.

I help Sam limp to the Impala and get him situated in the passenger seat before I slide in behind him. Dean already has the engine running and says, "Let's go see how our friendly neighborhood thieves are making out. We took the foot from them. See if their bad luck has started yet."

When we arrive at the decrepit apartment building, there is an ambulance loading up a body covered in a sheet. The paramedics shut the doors and walk around getting in the front and driving away. One of the bystanders tell us that a guy on the second floor tripped and fell onto a carving fork that was on the sink, impaling himself. We look at each other; we knew the victim is one of the thieves.

We walk upstairs and enter the opened door. Grossman looks up and sighs. "Oh, man. What do you want?"

"Heard about your friend. That's bad luck."

"Piss off.

"We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit's foot," Dean says. "A woman.

"Oh yeah? How do you know that?

"Because she just stole it back from us.

Grossman laughs.

"Listen man, this is seri-," Sam starts, stepping closer but then he trips on a wire on the floor mid-sentence, pulling a CD player off a shelf. Sam and the player both go crashing to the ground. Sam takes out a lamp as he goes. Dean rolls his eyes and I look back.

"Sam, you OK?" I ask, calmly.

"Yeah, I'm good!" Sam answers from the floor behind the couch. He pulls himself up and Grossman smirks.

"I want you to tell us her name," Dean demands, looking at the grieving man.

"Screw you."

"It wasn't a freak accident that killed your partner, you know." I try to get through to him.

"What?" Grossman says, skeptical.

"It was the rabbit's foot," Dean tells him.

Grossman scoffs, "You're crazy, man!"

"You know I'm not. You saw what happened, what it did. All the flukes, all the luck," Dean explains. "When you lose the foot that luck goes sour. That's what killed your friend. And my brother here is next. And who knows how many more innocent people after that. Now if you don't help us stop this thing, that puts those deaths on your head."

Grossman looks up at us, worried.

"Now I can read people ... and I get it. You're a thief, and a scumbag, that's fine," Dean says. "But you're not a killer. Are you?"

"No," Grossman whispers.

Dean walks over and sits on the table across from Grossman. "Who paid you to steal the box?"

I help Sam up and around the couch and catch him as he trips over his own two feet and bumps into the coffee table his brother is on. I get him seated on the couch and point my finger at him, "Do not move."

Dean glances over his shoulder at me and his brother and then puts his attention back to the man in front of him.

"See, Sam there touched the rabbit's foot and everything was going great. Then as soon as he lost it, his luck went south. Now, I don't want my baby brother ending up like your friend, so tell us. WHO PAID YOU TO STEAL THE BOX?!"

"I don't know who the hell she was man," Grossman begins after looking at Sam and then to Dean. "We got a phone call. Said she'd pay us $50,000 to break into the storage locker and take the box. We had no idea what was in it, I swear. Job seemed simple enough. Go in, get a box, earn some big bucks. After Wayne got shot though, he got curious. Wanted to know what in the hell could've been so important that the place was booby-trapped. So he opened it."

"Did you get a name?"

"Yea, uh. Bela. Bela Lugosi. We were supposed to meet up with her and make the trade-off but then, well you guys came barging in here and stole it from us."

"How did this Bela know we had it?" I ask.

"I called her. Told her that two guys and a woman busted in and robbed us. She asked to describe you and so I did. She hung up and I haven't heard from her since."

I give my sympathies to Grossman for his friend and follow the guys out of the apartment. We step out into the night air and head toward the Impala. Dean's phone starts ringing.

As Dean answers, he steps over a large wad of pink bubblegum on the ground. "Hello?"

Sam and I follow behind him and I hear a squishing sound beside me. Sam sighs, frustrated as he looks down and lifts his shoe off of the bubblegum.

"Bobby, that's uh, great, 'cept Sam, uh..." Dean says. He looks back at Sam and grimaces, shaking his head when Sam lifts his shoe.

"Sam lost the foot."

"He WHAT?!" I can hear Bobby's infuriated response.

"Bobby, Bobby, listen. This, uh, this hot chick stole it from him," Dean says. "I'm serious. In her mid 20's, and she was sharp you know, good enough at the con to play us."

Sam places his hand on my shoulder, trying to keep his balance as he attempts to scrape the bubblegum off his shoe using a broken storm drain grating.

"And she only gave the guy she hired a name, probably an alias or something," Dean says, looking back to his brother to verify the information. "Uh, Luigi or something?"

Sam is still scraping his shoe off so I answer, "Lugosi."

"Lugosi," Dean repeats into the phone.

Sam moves his foot too hard, dislodging his shoe. It drops into the drain with a splash. He bends down trying to retrieve it.

"Bela Lugosi? That's cute," Dean says, snarkily. I glance his way wondering who Bela Lugosi is.

"Well she knew about the damn rabbit's foot. Is she a Hunter?"

"Ah, I guess she's back."

"Great," Dean says, rolling his eyes.

"Thanks Bobby," Dean says into his phone. "Again."

Dean looks back at me and Sam. Sam is looking dejectedly down at the ground and I'm trying to hold back giggles.

"What?" Dean asks, scornful.

"I lost my shoe." Sam impishly claims.

I can't help but to begin laughing out loudly as Dean looks down at Sam's sock-clad foot and sighs, annoyed. He rolls his eyes and turns away. Sam hangs his head.

I'm still laughing as I pat Sam on the shoulder and we follow Dean back to the Impala across the street.

Dean pulls the Impala into the lot of a motel and stops just outside the office. He jumps out and darts inside, apparently to get a room.

When he comes back out, he has a key in his hand and is on the phone. As he slides in behind the wheel he finishes up the conversation. "All right, Bobby, thanks. Hey, we owe ya. Another one."

He looks over at his brother and then glances back at me. "All right, Bobby's got it on pretty good authority that this Bela chick lives in Queens. So it'll take me about two hours to get there."

"So what are we doing here?" Sam asks, confused.

"You, my brother, are staying here 'cause I don't want your bad luck getting us killed," Dean tells him, starting the engine and driving around the building.

"That's a good idea," I speak up as Dean is parking in front of a room.

"And you sweetheart," Dean says, turning in his seat to look at me. "You're staying to make sure he doesn't get himself hurt."

"Bullshit!" I say, look at Dean like he was crazy. "You need backup."

"Baby," Dean sighs, his shoulders slumping. "It's a girl. A simple girl. I can handle her. I'll just go in there, scare the daylights out of her with some cockamamie story and take the rabbit's foot back. Bring it back here so we can destroy that piece of shit."

"No," I demand. "I'm going with you." How dare he think he can just leave me behind and go after this Bela woman alone. I'm not letting him do it, nope. Not happening.

"Uh, I'll just be outside," Sam says. He can tell that there is a big argument coming and wants to give us some privacy.

"Nic, I need you to keep an eye on Sammy," he begs me. "Please, baby? You seen how he was at the apartment, tripping over a cord and then tripping over his own two feet. Hell, he even lost his shoe in a sewer! I need to know that he is safe so I can keep my attention on getting the foot. "

I consider what he is telling me. It does seem that Sam is his own worst enemy right now. And if someone doesn't keep an eye on him, God only knows what mess he'd get into. So, I concede to Dean's idea of staying behind.

"Ok," I agree. "But you call me as soon as you got it, you hear me Mister?"

"Of course," Dean smiles and leans over the seat to kiss me. I lean forward and let my lips glide over his. We get out of the car and he grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together. Sam rolls his eyes as he follows us to the door.

Dean unlocks the door and pulls me inside, Sam following. Dean turns on a light and we all take in the room. Miniscule decorations, a table with two chairs and two twin size beds.

"What are we even supposed to do, Dean?" Sam asks.

"Nothing! Nothing. Come here. I don't want you doing anything. I want you to sit right here," Dean instructs, pulling a chair into the middle of the room. "And don't move, OK?" Dean turns to look at me. "Don't let him move. Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose."

I nod my head and he comes over, kissing me hard before leaving the room and locking the door behind him. I look over at Sam and he is wrinkling his nose, like it's itching. I can't help but laugh as I walk over and scratch his nose. "Better?"

"Yea," Sam sighs. "Thanks Nic."

"So, we're stuck here. Whatcha wanna do?" I ask as I sit on the bed behind me.

Sam and I sat there staring at the walls, the ceiling, each other. There was nothing to do. I stood up and turned to get the remote and find something to watch at least when the AC unit in the wall starts making a clunking, grinding sound. Smoke starts to pour out.

"Oh come on!" I whined

"I- I didn't- I wasn't..." Sam stuttered.

"I know."

Sam gets up and cautiously approaches the unit. As soon as he reaches it, it catches on fire. Sam grabs the comforter off one of the beds and attempts to put out the fire with it. When he thinks he's got it, he gets up, only for me to yell, "Sam! Your jacket is on fire!"

He panics and pulls the curtain to put it out. The force of his jerk causes the curtain to rip from the rod and it falls away. We see two men staring at us through the window, sneering. I run up behind Sam about the same time he steps back, colliding with me. We both fall and black takes over my vision.

I wake up to one of the men restraining Sam to a chair with silver tape. I try to move only to look down and see I'm restrained to a chair also. Sam moans and opens his eyes.

"Oh, he's awake!" The dark hair man says. He looks over and notices me. "The bitch is too."

"Back with us, eh?" The other guy asks. I give him what I hope is a Sam Winchester bitch face.

"We didn't even have to touch you. You just went all spastic, and knocked yourselves out? It was like watching Jerry Lewis try to stack chairs!" They both laugh.

"Who are you, What do you wa-" Sam begins asking but the second guy snaps his fingers in Sam's face, shutting him up. Sam looks over at me, confused. I shrug my shoulders as much as I can from my entrapment.

"I used to think your friend Gordon sent me," the guy explains.

"Gordon? Oh come on!" Sam says, annoyed.

"Gordon is a douche," I snap. "Poorest excuse for a hunter if I ever seen one."

"Shut up, bitch!" The first guy yells and backhands me across the face.

"Nic, you ok?" Sam asks as I shake off the slap and answer, "Yea, I'm fine!"

"He asked me to track you down, and put a bullet in your brain," the guy continues mocking Sam.

"Great. That sounds like him," Sam mumbles.

"Gordon has a few screws loose," I say defiantly. "Wouldn't do to listen to anything he has to say."

The guy taunting Sam glances at me before walking closer to Sam and bending down to get in his face. "But, as it turns out. I'm on a mission from God."

He stands up and strikes Sam across the face, essentially knocking him out.

"You gonna stay quiet?" The man asked me. "Or do you need roughed up like your boyfriend here?"

"Not my boyfriend," I answered boldly, jutting my chin out.

The two men look at each other and then sit back on the beds, cross their ankles and click the t.v. on.

After about an hour, they seem to be getting restless, so the one who tied us up stands and walks to the kitchenette and fills a glass with water, throwing it in Sam's face. His cheek is bruised and his nose is bloody as shakes the water off. The other man sits at the end of the motel bed, watching.

Sam shakes his head and sighs. Then he looks over at me, mentally asking me if I'm okay. I nod my head as the one of the bed starts talking.

"You were a part of that demon plan to open the gate weren't you?"

"No," Sam says. "We did everything we could to stop it."

"We tried to stop it," I exclaimed, trying to break loose from my bonds.

"Lies lies lies! You were in on it," the man exclaims. "You know what their next move is too, don't you?"

"No, I don't, okay? You're wrong about all of this," Sam demands.

"Where are they gonna hit us next?"

Sam sighs and stays silent. The man stands up and strikes Sam across the face again. I can't help but squeak at the impact. Sam does nothing but exhales loudly.

"Why are you doing this?" I scream as he hits Sam. "We were trying to STOP the gate from opening! We've been running ourselves ragged trying to kill what got out! We're the good guys!"

"WHERE?!" The guy completely ignores me and continues to berate Sam. "Gordon told me about you, Sam. About your powers. You're some kinda weirdo psychic freak?"

"No, not any more. I - no powers, no visions, nothing, it just-" Sam is all but pleading.

"LIAR!"

The man punches Sam hard. Sam's head lulls back across his shoulders, but thankfully he doesn't pass out.

"NO!" I yell as Sam's head falls back from the connection..

"Now, no more lies. There's an army of demons out there pushing at a world already on the brink," the man says. "We're on deck for the endgame here, right? So maybe, just maybe you can understand--," he pauses in his speech and draws his gun, pointing it at Sam. "--why we can't take chances."

"Whoa, okay, okay, no, do- hold on a minute! -" I beg and plead with the men.

His partner seems to agree with me and tries to intervene. "Hey, Kubrick just-"

"No, you saw what happened, Creedy. Ask yourself, why are we here?" Kubrick looks at his partner. "Because you saw a picture on the web? Because we chose this motel instead of another? Luck like that doesn't just happen."

"Look, I can explain all of that if-" Sam begs.

"Shut up!" The man whose name I know now is Kubrick yells. He points to Sam without turning around. "It's God, Creedy. He led us here for one reason. To do His work. This ... is destiny."

"Nope. No destiny. Just a rabbit's foot," Dean announces as he enters the room, gun in his hand and pointed straight at our kidnappers.

"Put the fucking gun down, son, or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall."

"Oh, this thing?" Dean waves the gun around.

"Yeah, that thing," the guy, Kubrick, who I've deemed was the mastermind behind this whole heist, says mockingly.

"Okay. But you see, there's something about me that you don't know," Deans says putting his gun down and picks up a pen sitting next to it.

"Yeah? What would that be?" the mastermind asks smugly.

"It's my goddamn lucky day."

Dean tosses the pen toward the mastermind. It lodges itself in the barrel of his gun.

"Oh my God, did you see that shot!?" Dean exclaims, laughing.

The other man lunges at Dean and aims a punch but Dean easily side-steps and the man runs straight into the wall, falling backwards and hitting the floor. Kubrick stares at the pen in the barrel for a few moments before trying to dislodge it.

"I'm amazing," Dean says to no one in particular. Sam and I begin trying to free ourselves.

Dean then picks up the TV remote from the table and throws it hard at Kubrick, who is just about to aim for Dean. The remote hits him right between the eyes, knocking him out cold and he drops like a stone.

"I'm Batman," Dean smiles, looking at me and then his brother.

"Yeah. You're Batman," Sam says sarcastically. I just roll my eyes and look at my boyfriend.

"Well Batman, get us the hell out of these fucking ties!"

Dean jumps into action, untapping me from my chair and handing me my gun. "Keep watch."

I train my gun on the two men passed out in the floor while Dean goes about unbinding his brother.

Once we are free, we run out of the room and jump in the Impala. Dean hits the gas and takes off.

"Did you get it?" Sam asks.

"Did I get it?!" Dean asks, mockingly. "Did you see me back there? I was invincible. Of course I got it!"

"Well, let's destroy it before we lose it again," I insisted.

We drove to the edge of town where a cemetery loomed.

Dean got out and went to the trunk, getting the supplies we needed to burn the foot. We walk through the cemetery to a spot not visible from the main road.

"All right. Bone ash, cayenne pepper, that should do it," Sam says sprinkling the pepper onto the pile of ash on the ground.

"One second," Dean muttered, busily scratching off more lottery tickets.

"Dean, you-" Sam sighs, shaking his head.

"Hey, back off, Jinx. I'm bringing home the bacon," Dean glances over his shoulder at Sam and I. We just want to get rid of this stupid cursed rabbit's foot before it's too late. We look at one another and roll our eyes.

"Hey! I seen that" Dean chided, pointing one of the cards at us.

Sam and I both sigh. Dean winks at me and stashes the cards in his jacket, that is slung over a gravestone.

Dean holds the foot up and says, "Alright, say goodbye "wascawy wabbit".

We hear the sound of a gun cocking behind Dean and he turns round.

"I think you'll find that belongs to me. Or, you know, whatever," a petite woman with light brown hair says. "Put the foot down, honey."

I move to attack her and Dean holds his hand out to stop me. "No. You're not going to shoot anybody, Bela. See I happen to be able to read people. OK, you're a thief, fine, but you're not-"

Bela ignores him, aims at Sam and fires. Sam falls beside me, holding his shoulder and groaning.

"Son of a-" Dean shouts but shuts up once he realizes Bela has her gun toward me.

I move again to go after her and she aims the gun straight at me, stopping me in my tracks.

"Back off sugar," Bela snarks, looking at me. "Back off. You make one more move and I'll pull the trigger."

Sam gets up, clutching his shoulder. I check him over, it's a complete through and through shot. Nothing a little whiskey and some stitches won't heal.

"You've got the luck, Dean. You, I can't hit. But your brother and your girlfriend? Them I can't miss."

"Jesus Christ! What the hell is wrong with you?! You don't just go around shooting people like that!"

"Relax. It's a shoulder hit, I can aim. Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people? Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now."

"All right! All right. Take it easy," Dean concedes. He goes to drop the rabbit's foot, but instead throws it at Bela. "Think fast."

Bela catches the foot and curses. "Damn!" Dean smiles in satisfaction.

"Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?"

Bela sighs, annoyed..

She walks over and drops the rabbit's foot in the small flames. "Thanks very much. I'm out one and a half million, and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer."

"Wow. I really don't feel bad about that. Sam? Nic?"

"Nope," Sam answers.

"Not even a little," I shrug, smiling sweetly at Bela.

"Hmm. Maybe next time I'll hang you out to dry," she snarks and turns to walk away. She turns back toward us leaning on the gravestone where Dean's jacket is.

"Oh don't go away angry, just go away," Dean snidely tells her.

"Have a nice night guys," she says as she walks away. We turn to see the rabbit's foot burning in the fire. Good riddance, Thumper!

Once the last of the embers have burnt out, we walk back toward the gate.

"You good?" Dean asks his brother, tossing his arm over my shoulder.

"I'll live."

"I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck." Dean says and then gets a huge grin on his face. "Oh! I forgot we're up $46,000. I almost forgot about the scratch tickets."

He begins searching his jacket and comes up empty. A car roars in the distance. Sam, Dean and I look between each other and then watch as Bela drives away, honking her horn.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

"What?" I inquire.

"Bitch stole the tickets!"


	42. Take My Breath Away

We head back to Bobby's in Baby; Sam is passed out in the backseat and I'm sitting under Dean's arm that is slung across the front seat. We find him in the kitchen, working on the Colt. As we walk in Bobby picks up a magnifying glass and eyes the Colt; a diagram of parts laid out beside him.

Sam walks into the room first. "Hey Bobby."

"'Bout damn time you idjits showed up," Bobby grumbled, studying the diagram closer. "Get rid of that damned rabbit's foot?"

We all three nodded and Dean sit at the table, picking up the pieces of the Colt and examining it. "How's it going, Bobby?"

"Slow."

"Eh, I tell you, it's a little sad seeing the Colt like that," Dean says as he begins melting down metal to make bullets.

"Well, the only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick," Bobby says, frustrated.

"So what makes it tick?" Sam asks.

Bobby looks up at him, not the least bit amused. I backhand Sam across the chest and laugh as he throws his hands up in surrender, a big smile plastered on his face.

"Well, you boys have fun playing with your toys. I'm heading upstairs for a nice hot shower," I say, pulling my bag onto my shoulder and turning to leave the room. When I come back downstairs, Bobby still has the Colt in pieces and Dean has made quite a bit of progress on ammo. Sam enters the kitchen from the den at the same time I enter from the hallway.

"Hey baby," Dean says and smiles at me. I see Bobby quirk an eyebrow at the nickname. Dean looks at Sam and sees the worry in his face. "What's up?"

"Might've found some omens in Ohio. Dry lightning, barometric-pressure drop," Sam explains.

"Well, that's thrilling," Dean deadpans but I'm anxious to hear about the omens so I step closer and put my hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Plus, some guy blows his head off in a church and another goes postal in a hobby shop before the cops take him out."

"Might be demonic omens," I speculate.

"Or it could just be a suicide and a psycho scrapbooker," Dean offers nonchalantly.

"Yeah, but it's our best lead since Lincoln."

"Where in Ohio?" Dean asks and I listen intently.

"Elizabethville. It's a half-dead factory town in the rust belt."

Dean groans, "Why can't there be a demon or two in South Beach."

Sam winks at me and smirks at his brother. "Sorry, Hef. Maybe next time."

I roll my eyes at the jesting between the brothers.

Dean stands up as Sam turns to Bobby and says, "So, if we want to go check out these omens in Ohio…you think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?"

I can't help but chuckle at Sam mocking the old hunter. Bobby just stares at the younger man incredulously.

"Well, it won't kill demons by then, (beat) but I can promise you it'll kill you," Bobby says, pointing the still dismantled gun toward Sam.

Dean smiles at me and then grabs his brother's arm. "All right, come on, we're wasting the daylight."

"See you, Bobby," I say as I follow the boys out of the room to go re-pack my bag.

"Hey! You guys run into anything, anything, you call me," Bobby says.

We nod and head out.

Since their bags were still downstairs, the boys grabbed them and walked outside while I ran upstairs to get mine. When I got to Baby, Dean still had the trunk open and took my bag, throwing it in beside his. "Thanks babe," I say and tiptoe to kiss him, keeping it purely chaste.

"Awww," Sam turns his teasing toward us.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" I ask him as I round the car to open the door and shift into the backseat.

"I dunno," Sam shrugs and slides into the passenger seat.

Dean pops in behind the wheel and turns the ignition, firing Baby's engine up. "Let's get this show on the road!"

We arrive in Elizabethville Ohio and the streets are packed with people. It reminds me of pictures I've seen of Mardi Gras. Men are wandering around with cocktails, scantily clad women are meandering between them. A lot of action for a no name town.

"I thought you said this was some boarded-up factory town," I ask Sam as we pass by a couple practically having sex right there on the street in broad daylight.

"It is," he answers and sees the same couple I do. "At least, it's supposed to be."

Dean parks the Impala in an alley off the street and grabs the door handle. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's do some research." I turn and walk alongside Dean toward the apex of the hustle and bustle of this supposed rundown town.

"You sound a little too excited to be talking about research," Sam mentions as he follows us onto the street. I can't help but nod in agreement. We pass a car with it's back door open and all I can see is long legs barely covered by a mini skirt. Dean stops in his tracks and looks in, I see the woman beckon him to join her so I step back and grab him by the hand. "Don't even think about it, mister!"

"I wasn't!" Dean proclaims and I cut my eyes toward him, not believing him for a second. "I swear, I wasn't."

I walk along the sidewalk, amazed at how blase the crowd is; it's like they don't think about nothing but themselves and what they desire in the heat of the moment. Definite sign of possession, I think to myself.

Two men begin bickering over a petite blonde as we get closer and about the time we go to step around them, the one guy punches the other, knocking him backwards and right toward me. Dean grabs me by the waist and pulls me out of the line of fire. "Thanks," I say as I keep an eye on the two fighting men. The blonde they were arguing over has already moved on to her next victim and is making out with him.

After our walk around, we get back into Baby and head to find a motel to change into our FBI duds. The Kitty Kat is the only motel in this one-horse town turned bustling hub of indecency. Dean gets us a room and we head toward it. As I open the door, the door to the room directly across from us opens and a girl, barely clothed and hardly of legal age steps into the corridor. I roll my eyes and walk into the room, surprised that both Sam and Dean follow me in. I once again have to roll my eyes when I see our room. Two decent sized beds with mirrors surrounding them, even on the ceiling. Geez, no one can want to see themselves that much! But then I glance at the mirrors on the ceiling again and get a wicked idea. Now, if I can just get Sam to leave the room for a few hours.

I hear Dean call someone's name so I turn to see a man dressed in a polyester tan and cream sweat suit and a fedora on his head. The gold chain wrapped around his neck oozes sleazeball. I shudder at the thought of how Dean knows this slimebag.

"Richie. I don't believe it," Dean exclaims, a smile on his face like he just found his long lost best friend.

"Hey, Dean... Winchester, right?" The guy, Richie, says seeming to be jumpy and fickle; like he wasn't expecting to see anyone he knew or knew him. Dean didn't seem to catch on to his eccentric behavior.

"Yeah," Dean answers smiling and the girl beside Richie whines something incomprehensible.

"This is my sister, uh, Cheryl," Richie offers and both guys nod their head. I just turn and begin going through my bag, not paying any attention to the encounter.

Richie hands his "sister" a wad of cash which she takes, slips it into her barely there halter top and sashays down the corridor. Richie watches her walk away and smiles approvingly and I notice Sam and Dean glance in the same direction. Richie breaks their concentration by explaining his lewd behavior, "Well, you know... stepsister."

"Come on in," Dean motions further into our room. "This is my brother, Sam. And my girlfriend, Nicole." Dean doesn't seem to notice the odd look Richie gives him when he introduces me as he walks over and sits his bag on the bed beside mine.

"Hey. How you doing?" Richie asks Sam as they shake hands then he turns to me. "So you got ole Dean here to settle down, huh? Must be hell of a--" His eyes wander to my crotch.

"Hey!" Dean cuts him off, knowing where Richie's mind is headed.

"How do you two know each other?" Sam aks, trying to alleviate the stress that envelops the room.

"You were in school," Dean explains to his brother, cutting his eyes at me in apology.

"It was that bitch of a succubus, in Canarsie right?" Richie pipes in.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Oh, man. You should have seen the rack on this broad. Fuckin' tragedy when I had to gank her," Richie begins his own account of the tale, disregarding the palpable tension

"Whoa, whoa. Wait. Who killed her? If I remember, your ass was toast until I showed up," Dean says.

"Oh, I forgot what a goddamn comedian this guy was," Richie laughs, clapping Dean on the shoulder.

"Richie, Richie, know what? I told you then and I'll tell you again," Dean says. "You're not cut out for this job. You're gonna get yourself fucking killed."

Richie's reply is cut off as his phone rings.

He pulls it out of a pocket and answers, "Talk to me." He pulls the mobile device away from his face and looks at Dean. "FYI, Winchester, words fucking hurt." He turns his attention back to the person on the phone, "Yeah? No, it's not a good time, babe. Later."

"So you find anything in this town, anyway?" Dean asks when Richie shut his phone and pockets it.

"Ah, no. I got shit," Richie says deflated. "Oh, wait a minute. You mean as in demons and whatnot?"

"Yeah," Dean answers curtly and I can tell he is getting fed up with the man.

"No, I got shit."

"Typical," Dean mumbles, shaking his head slightly. "What about your sister back there?"

"Oh, honestly?" Richie says, smiling lasciviously. "She definitely had the devil in her, but she wasn't no demon, you know what I'm saying?" Richie nods his head suggestively, smiling at both of the Winchesters. When neither of them respond he tries to get serious. "Right. Seriously. Church guy, hobby-shop guy? They were lunch meat by the time I got there. Hey maybe they were possessed, but I can't prove it."

"Yeah, that's where we are, too. You know, let's just say that demons are possessing people in this town. You know, raising hell--" Sam concurs with Richie's interpretation.

"Yeah, but why would a demon blow his brains out?" I ask, now that we are talking about the case and I want to get this one over and done with and out of this town of adultery and disloyalty.

"Well, for fun? You know he wrecks one body, moves to another." Richie answers. "You know, like taking a stolen car for a joyride."

"Anybody else left in the town that fits the profile? You know, nice guy turned douche, still breathing?"

"There's Trotter," RIchie says in an off hand comment.

"Who's that?" Sam asks, looking on his laptop and typing in what I can only assume is the name Richie just gave us.

"Well, he used to be head of the Rotary Club. And then people say he turned bastard all of a sudden?" Richie explains. "Brought in the gambling, the hookers. He practically owns this whole town."

"Know where we could find him?"

"Oh, he'll be at his bar in a few hours," Richie says, smiling.

'Oh great,' I think to myself. 'More people inhibited by copious amounts of liquor and a demon who possesses them to do whatever they desire.'

After Richie leaves, the boys and I decide to go to the church where the one guy shot himself and interview the witness, a Father Gil.

"There's not much left for the insurance company. It was a suicide, I saw it myself." Father Gil commented to the insurance adjusters that were there concerning the death of a man last week.

"Well,this shouldn't take long then," Dean says.

I watch from afar to see if this Father Gil was the real deal or was one of the possible demons in this so-called boarded up and forgotten industrial town.

Father Gil sighs and nods toward the balcony above. 'That's where Andy did it. It's the first time I'd seen him in weeks. He used to come every Sunday."

"When did he stop?" Sam asks, sounding highly interested and writing the information that they're given in his notepad.

"Probably about,uh two months ago?" Father Gil answers. "Right around the time everything else started to change."

"Change how?"

"Oh, let's just say this used to be a town you could be proud of. People cared about each other," Father Gil explained, nostalgic. "Andy sang in the choir. And then one day, he just... wasn't Andy anymore. It was like he was ..." Father Gil trails off.

"Possessed?" Sam asks, feigning perplexity.

"You could say that. Gambled away his money, cheated on his wife, destroyed his business. Yes, like a switch had flipped."

"Father, did you know the man who killed those folks in the hobby shop?" Dean speaks up.

"Sure, Tony Perkins."

"Tony Perkins," Sam repeats and writes he name down on his paper.

"He was a good man," Father Gil replied.

"Would you say that his personality suddenly changed one day, too?"

Father Gil leans his head to the side. "I never thought about it that way, but...yes. About the same time as Andy, about two months ago."

"Well, thank you, Father. Appreciate your time," Dean says as they both shake the man's hand and begins walking toward me.

We get into the Impala and I lean up, crossing my arms on the back of the seat. "Ya know, two months ago, we open up the devil's gate, all of a sudden this town turns into Margaritaville? It's no coincidence."

Sam and Dean both nod as Dean fires up the engine and we head back to the hotel to get dressed for a night at the bar.

The music is loud and the bar is packed when we get there. For so early in the evening, people are living it up drinking and having a good time. The crowd is shoulder to shoulder and no one seems to mind as we push our way through to the bar. The plan was for each of us to go our own separate ways and try to cozy up to one of the locals and see if we can get closer to figuring out what evil entity has taken over this small town.

Richie brushes past me and approaches Sam and Dean. I suppress a gag as his abundant overuse of cologne hits my nose. He's wearing a shiny orange short-sleeved shirt halfway unbuttoned to reveal a white t-shirt underneath; typical scumbag outfit.

"Oh, Richie. Look at you," Dean chuckles as he checks out the wild outfit.

"Hey," Richie says as they shake hands.

"Bringing satin back?" Dean asks.

"Oh, you like this?" Richie asks, running his hand down his chest. "Try Thai silk. Canal Street. You'd have to pay $300 for threads like these, easy. Cost to me, fuggedaboutit."

"How much is "forget about it"?" Sam asks, smiling at the ludicrous man.

Richie waves his hand through the air. "Ah, forget about it. That's Trotter over there. He sits there all night. Can't touch him." We each turn to see a balding man with beady eyes, scanning the main bar area constantly.

"So,what do we do now?" Sam asks.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm gonna do a little investigating with that bartender," Dean says as he walks away. I contemplate rolling my eyes but I know he is just working the job.

Richie speaks up before Dean gets too far. "Easy. Me and her, we got a little ... somethin'-somethin' lined up for later."

"Yeah, right." Dean scoffs.

"Stings, don't it? All right. I got to hit the head, release the hostages. Be back in a few."

I look around the bar and notice two guys playing a game of pool with a small group of women watching. I saunter over and join them. I wink at the one guy as he leans down to take his turn and looks up at me. He smiles and aims, hitting the cue ball into another one, sinking it. He walks over to me and stands right in front. "Hello. Never seen you around before. You new to these parts?"

"Just traveling through," I answer him as provocative as I can muster. "Thought I'd check this place out. It seems...booming."

"Name's John," he says, leaning closer. I can smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Nicole."

"Well darling Nikki. Why don't I buy you a drink."

"Sure," I say, batting my lashes at him. "I'll take a Jack and Coke."

"Girl after my own heart you are," John says as he lays the pool stick against the wall and grabs my hand. We slide up to the bar to wait for the bartender. I can see her across from us, talking to Sam and Dean and a man who looks an awful lot like Father Gil. The man turns to smile at the bartender and I have to school my features to not show my shock. It is in fact Father Gil.

"Hey Casey," John calls out. "Can I get a Jack and Coke for my new lady friend?" I watch in pretend nonchalance as the three men glance our direction and see Dean's jaw clench. I give him a small smile, letting him know I'm okay.

The bartender, a medium build woman with long black hair and dark eyes to match, turns and fixes my drink and brings it over. I nod to her in thanks and take a sip. It doesn't taste like anything but Coke mixed with Jack Daniels so I smile and turn toward my new "friend" John.

"So, what else is there to do in this town?"

John and I make our way back over to the pool table and he gets pulled into another game. I stand and watch as he makes a big show of taking aim and hitting his mark almost every single time. He walks up to me, getting closer than I am comfortable with, but I shake it off and look at him. "Oh darlin, I think you're my good luck charm tonight." He bends toward me like he is going to kiss me when someone passing hits him in the shoulder, knocking him to the side. I look up and see a man who looks to have had a few too many drinks.

"Reg!" John scolds. "Hey man, watch where you're going."

"Hey," the man says, emotionless.

"Everything okay buddy?"

"I don't know. Just not feeling myself today," Reg says, shrugging and looking depressed.

Before I can register what is going on right in front of me, I hear John exclaim, "Reggie, what are you doing?"

The flash of the gun metal brings me to my senses and I scream as Reggie points the gun at John and pulls the trigger. John falls to the floor and I'm frozen in shock. I feel arms wrap around me and pull me away from the scene. I look over my shoulder and am relieved to see that it's Dean who has rescued me.

"Baby, you okay?" he whispers in my ear.

I nod, afraid to speak. I watch as Sam squats down to check John's pulse and calls for an ambulance. In my frozen state, I had missed Sam tackling Reggie to the ground and splashing him with holy water. When the holy water had no effect on Reggie he had pushed Sam off of him and claimed that John had slept with his wife.

Looking over toward Trotter, I notice he is alert and paying close attention to every movement in the place. We lock eyes and he turns to leave. I shudder and feel Dean's arm wrap tighter around me. "I got you baby," he whispers into my ear before kissing my temple.

Sam, Dean and I sit at the bar and watch as police cuff Reggie and lead him away. Well, they are sitting, Dean has me pulled up in between his legs, arm wrapped around my waist.

"Too many cops here. I say we roll," Sam suggest in a whisper.

"Just be cool. Poor jerk," Dean says, shaking his head slightly. "Only thing possessing him was a sixer of Pabst."

"So, what's the deal, then?" I ask, voice still trembling as I'm still shaken at what transpired not five feet in front of me. "People in this town getting possessed or not?"

"I don't know. Maybe it is just what it is, town full of scumbags," Dean says, pulling me even closer, trying to comfort and protect me.

"Yeah. Maybe," Sam says, as a uniformed officer walks up to us. I had already spoke to him and gave him my statement along with a false name, fake id to prove it.

"You ready for your mug shots?" We all must look nervous because the young officer quickly adds, "The photographer's gonna be here in a few to take your picture for the local paper."

Dean pretends to be enthused to be recognized. "Be an honor, Officer. What a thrill!" He adds in a fake laugh for the hell of it.

"Yep, time to go," Sam says, rising off his seat. I pull out of Dean's embrace and turned to wait for him.

"Wait a second. Wait a second."

"What?" Sam asks, confused.

"Where's Richie?"

"He probably hightailed it out of here as soon as the ruckus began," Sam says. Then turns and notices that the bartender, Casey is missing also. "Didn't he say that he and the bartender had plans later? Looks like later came sooner."

Dean nods his head and then throws his arm around my shoulders and we all three walk out of the bar unnoticed.

The next day we find a diner to grab a bite to eat. Dean and I sit down at a table and waitress comes to take our order. Sam joins us and I tell him I ordered him a veggie burger and water. He thanks me and the pulls out the local newspaper to scan for clues. The waitress brings our order and sits a large burger in front of Dean. He's hanging up a cell phone and looking at it speculatively as if he was just trying to reach someone. Dean seems to be in his own little world so I hit him in the shoulder with mine and cut my eyes toward his food.

"You do realize there's red meat within striking distance, right?"

"How many times I got to tell Richie, he's gonna get himself in trouble?" Dean mumbles, continuing to ignore the burger.

"Dean, you're assuming he's missing," Sam says. "I mean, maybe he just bailed."

"He's a moron. I mean, he's a sweet moron, but he's not a coward," Dean contends, nodding his head. "He wouldn't just bail. I got to go find him."

"All right," Sam says. "Meanwhile I think I'm gonna trail this Trotter guy."

"Yeah?" Dean asks, finally sinking his teeth into his burger.

"Yeah. I don't know. Something about the way he looked at me last night," Sam explains. "Maybe there is something going on here. What are you going to do Nic?"

"I'm not letting this lug out of my sight so I guess, I'll be looking for Richie."

Dean smiles at me and I chuckle. He has ketchup and mayonnaise stuck to the corners of his mouth so I grab a napkin and wipe it off. "Fanks," Dean says, his mouth still full of meat and bread.

Trotter's bar was dark inside, the lights turned off and no one anywhere around. Sam heads off to the left, down a hall that he had seen Trotter take off down last night during the scuffle. Dean and I make our way through, trying to not knock anything over and bring attention to ourselves. I hear something behind me but before I can turn, I feel something hit the back of my head and hear Dean screaming my name as my body hits the floor and everything goes black.

"Nic. Nic. Nicole!" I hear my name being chanted as if I'm underwater. I work to open my eyes and see Sam bent down beside me, his hand carding through my hair and his fingers lightly scratching my scalp.

"Sam? What happened?"

"I don't know. I got busted trying to spy on Trotter but got away. Came out and found you knocked out on the floor," Sam explains. "Where's Dean?"

"I. I don't know," I say, wincing at the pain in the back of my head as I sit up. "I was following him and someone or something hit me from behind. We have to find him Sam!"

"I know. We will," Sam says as he stands and then helps me to stand. I stumble a bit from being dizzy and light headed.

"I'm going to check behind the bar," Sam says. "See if we can catch a clue to what the hell is going on around here."

"Ok, I'll help you."

It looks like a normal bar setup behind there; bottles of different brands and colors of liquor sitting on low counters and an ice chest full of bottles of beer. I notice a drawer under the bar and I open it. What I see inside make my blood run cold and call Sam's name.

The drawer is full of papers and documents and pictures of the ones we have discovered missing; Richie, Andy, Tony, Dean. Sam picks up an older photo of a little girl standing with an older man and flips it over. The words "Casey and her Father" are written on there above an address, 1987 Piedmont. I look down and see a yellow powder substance under where the picture had lain. "Sam look," I say, reaching out and running a finger through it. I put it up to my nose and sniff. "Sulfur."

We place all the pictures back in the drawer and close it and rush outside. Sam quickly hotwires a vehicle and we head off toward Piedmont Street.

Pulling up, the first thing we notice is the Impala sitting in front of a stone wall covered with vines. Behind the wall, we can see the peaked roof of a dwelling. Sam grabs the bag we had stopped by the hotel to get and pulls out my gun and hands it to me. He pulls one out for himself along with a couple of other weapons. We exit the vehicle and walk stealthily toward the arbored gateway in the stone wall.

Sam walks in front of me to the door. He glances at me and then knocks. The door creaks open and I step in behind Sam. The inside looks like an ordinary house for this day and age, nothing out of place or looks to be from a different era. Sam steps forward and we hear a dejected pig squeal. I look down to see that Sam has stepped on a pair of pink piggie house shoes. I giggle and quickly put my hand over my mouth to stifle it. Sam looks at me and grins, "Shut up."

We check throughout the house and see no sign of Dean or anyone else. As we step back outside, Father Gil walks through the gate and looks surprised to see us. Upon closer inspection, I recognize him as the man in the picture back at the bar. 'So Father Gil is Casey's dad?' I wonder to myself.

"Uh, hey."

"Hey Father," Sam says, not connecting the dots as of yet. "We were just looking for our friend."

"Haven't seen him. But Casey does like to take her dates out back to the old treehouse," Father Gil provides.

I walk with Sam around the side of the house and realize that Father Gil is behind us. I look back but then I hear voices. I reach out and grab Sam's arm, nodding my head toward a grate in the side of the house's foundation.

"Dean?" Sam yells into the void.

"Sammy?" I am so fucking relieved to hear his voice.

"Sammy, down here! The basement caved in!"

Sam leans closer to the grate. "Dean. Hey, hold on, okay? We're coming."

"Who's we?" Dean asked, concern apparent in his tone.

"Me and Nic," Sam answers, stating the obvious.

"Nic? Nic, are you okay?" I hear Dean ask and I squat beside Sam to answer.

"Yea babe. I'm fine. We're here with Father Gil."

"Sammy." Dean pauses but I can hear the worry in his voice. "Be careful."

We both turn to see Father Gil going black-eyed. Before either of us can respond, a shot is fired just past the Father's head, destroying a small statute. Father Gil whips away from us and we see Bobby, standing there pointing the Colt at Father Gil. The padre uses his powers to fling Bobby aside. He then throws Sam into the windscreen of the Impala and me against the stone fence surrounding the house.

Sam rolls off the hood of the car and rushes to where I am lying on the ground. He helps me up and we rush to Bobby.

"Bobby, you all right?"

Bobby nods, "Yeah."

"How did you know where we..." Sam trails off as Bobby hands him the rebuilt Colt.

"GO!"

Ruby suddenly appears and enforces Bobby's demand. "You heard the man. Go."

Sam and I take off back around to the front of the house. The door is blown off its hinges and is lying in splintered pieces 20 feet inside. We step over the threshold and head toward the basement.

As we get closer we can see the stones that had fallen from the ceiling and blocked the entrance but there is a hole blasted through them. I can hear Casey the bartender telling someone to let someone go. Sam steps up to the hole in the stone blockade and points the Colt, pulling the trigger and shooting Father Gil in the back of the head. Lightning emits from and circles Father Gil, who twitches and dies. Sam then points the Colt at Casey and fires. Her body falls over that of Father GIl's, neither of them no longer possessed.

I run over to Dean and wrap my arms around him. I look up to see he has a splattering of blood on his forehead but upon further examination, no other visible wounds. I kiss his lips and he pulls me tight to himself. "You know, I wasn't going to do anything with her," he confesses in a whisper. "I was just trying to get intel."

"I know. Don't worry about it," I say smiling our eyes meeting. "I trust you."

We pack up and head back to Sioux Falls to Singer Automotive and begin to search for the next case. For the next three days, nothing. Not a single omen, sudden deaths or a case of any kind. When Sam informs Dean of the lull in hunts, it gives him an idea to show Nic how much she means to him. He keeps this information to himself because what he has planned, Sam would surely make fun of him about it.

Dean goes upstairs to find Nic laying on the bed, reading a book.

"Hey baby," Dean says, sitting on the end of the bed.

"Hey you."

"I wanna take you out tonight. Sam can't find a single hunt so we have some free time," Dean explains. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Okay," I say, quirking my eyebrow. What the hell could he want to talk to me about, I wonder.

"Be ready by 6 okay?"

"Yep, can do."

After contemplating all day over what Dean needs to talk to me about and quelling my fears that he is going to break up with me, or ask me to quit hunting with them, or something else equally moronic I begin to get ready.

After my shower, I dry off and apply lotion to my body mindful of all the areas I had shaved to be sure and moisturize them well. I fix my hair, pulling some of it up and into a small bun on the back of my head the rest falls in spiral curls down my back and over my shoulders. I look in my closet and pick out a black skirt that hit me right above the knees and flared out a bit. The maroon top I choose has a scalloped neckline that dips low enough to show cleavage but still be modest. The only stockings I have is a pair of black fishnets that I had bought years ago and had actually never even worn so I pull them on and finish off the look with a pair of strappy black heels.

At precisely 6pm there is a knock on my door and I open it to find Dean standing there in his white button up shirt from his fed suit, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He has paired the shirt with a nice pair of black jeans and black loafers. To say he looks handsome is a major understatement. He smiles at me and his eyes linger down my body. "You look beautiful, Nic."

"You don't look bad yourself Winchester."

He puts his arm out and I slide mine through and we walk down the stairs and out of the house. He opens the passenger door of the Impala, which is looking especially sharp. He must have washed and waxed her today. Even the leather seats are shiny and clean. I watch as Dean shuts the door behind me and walks around to get in behind the wheel.

"So, what do you need to talk to me about?" I ask, my curiosity getting away from me.

"Food first, then talking."

Dean takes me to an expensive restaurant in downtown Sioux Falls. The inside is immaculate.

Dark wood walls with coffered ceilings displaying fancy exquisite candelabras. The tables are covered with white linen cloths surrounded by leather clad seats; even the napkin are white linens. The maitre'd hands us our menus and as soon as I glance I can tell this date is going to set him back in the funds department, none of the dishes are priced. I look over my menu at Dean and he is staring at me. "What?" I say self conscious.

"Nothing," he smiles. "You're beautiful."

I can't help but blush. Here is this man; this handsome, strong man telling me he thinks I'm beautiful. I can feel my heart beat faster and the butterflies in my stomach take flight.

The maitre'd comes back and takes our order and menus and walks away.

Dean grabs my hand and laces his fingers with mine. "Nic, I know I don't show it much, but you mean the world to me. You have been through a lot and still are sitting here with me. I count my lucky stars that you haven't left yet."

"I'm not going anywhere Dean," I say low. "I'm here for the long haul."

We get our food and begin eating, joking and laughing as we let each other sample the other's cuisine. When the plates are cleared away Dean declines dessert and opts to pay the bill so we can get to the rest of the date.

Dean has been driving for a while now, leaving the city lights behind us. He pulls up a gravel road and parks beside a large oak tree, with a lake beyond. He gets out and comes around and opens my door. I step out into the night and stare at the scene before me. The stars in the sky are perfectly reflected in the calm lake water. Dean wraps his arms around my waist from behind and kiss the back of my neck.

I turn in his arms and loop mine around his neck. "This date has been perfect."

He leans down and kisses me, swiping his tongue across the crease in my lips. I open and let him in, deepening it.

When the need for air becomes apparent, Dean pulls away and settles his forehead against mine. He pulls away and sits down in the passenger seat, opening the glove box and pulling out a cassette. Before he inserts it in the player, he looks at me and smirks. "You tell anyone I have this and I'll deny it to the day I die. Even Sam."

"Okay I promise," I say, anxious to see what he has up his sleeve. The first few notes of the song starts and I recognize it immediately. Dean gets out of the car and holds his hand out. "Dance with me?"

I don't hesitate to take his hand and let him pull me close. He wraps his arms around my body and we sway back and forth to the melody and I listen to the words and wonder if he is trying to tell me something.

Watching every motion

In my foolish lover's game

On this endless ocean

Finally lovers know no shame

Turning and returning

To some secret place inside

Watching in slow motion

As you turn around and say

Take my breath away

Take my breath away

Watching I keep waiting

Still anticipating love

Never hesitating

To become the fated ones

Turning and returning

To some secret place to hide

Watching in slow motion as you turn to me and say

Take my breath away

Dean must be a mind reader because no sooner as I had the thought that he was trying to tell me something he looks down at me and says, "Nicole Barker, I love you so fucking much!"

My breath gets caught in my throat. I look in his eyes and see nothing but the love and adoration he just proclaimed. Dean Winchester just told me he loved me!

"I love you too Dean Winchester."

He leans in and captures my lips again. I feel his one hand cup the back of my neck and the other squeezing my hip. We kiss until the need for air makes us break apart. The music is still playing behind us and I look up at him and whisper, "Make love to me Dean."

He leads me to the front of Baby and lifts me up, sitting me on the hood, still warm from the engine. He presses his lips to mine again and places his hands on my knees. I can feel the heat of them through the hosiery. I begin unbuttoning my shirt and slip it off my shoulder, leaving me in a black lace bra. I quickly unclasp it and pull my arms out, dropping the garment on the ground beside the wheel. Dean's hands leave my knees and cover my breasts, slowly and methodically kneading them, rubbing his thumbs over my erect nipples.

I let my legs fall open and he steps in between them. I wrap my arms around his neck and scoot back onto the hood, bringing him with me. He growls as one of his hands travel down my stomach and under my skirt. He palms my sex and flexes his fingers, the muscles in the heel of his hand rubbing deliciously against my covered clit.

My lips travel over his jaw and to his ear where I whisper, "Rip 'em. I'm not wearing panties." as I tug on his earlobe with my teeth. Dean growls and then I feel pressure on my thighs right before I hear fabric being ripped and his fingers on my folds.

"God, Nic. You're soaking wet already!"

"Mmhmm," I murmur as he continues playing with my lips and clit. I whine and he slides a finger inside, causing my hips to involuntarily buck. Dean adds another finger and begins a slow and steady pump as I work on unbuttoning his shirt. Once the material is open, he jerks it down his arms and flings it out into the night sky somewhere.

Dean works his belt and jeans open and pulls them down just enough for his fully erect dick to pop out. He climbs on to Baby's hood and places himself between my legs. His length slides in easily and he groans as he bottoms out. He sets the same pace as before, slow and steady with a grinding motion when he is fully inside me, causing his pelvic bone to stroke my clit.

He keeps the same pace and motions the whole time until I can feel the coil in my stomach tighten and then he speeds up, bucking into me erratically. As soon as the coil snaps and my pussy flutters around him, I feel his dick swell and he shoots loads of his creamy seed deep inside.

I lay there on the hood of Baby with Dean panting on top of me. He lifts his weight and looks me in the face. "You take my breath away everyday, Nic. From being a badass hunter to a dynamic researcher to an amazingly, sexy as hell girlfriend." He kisses me quick and chastely. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I." kiss "Love." kiss "you." He kisses me one last time before rolling off of me and lying on his back beside me, both of u staring at the stars above us and trying to catch our breath.


End file.
